The Fourth
by Bear-Bell
Summary: Edward sees Spike, and she grows up within a moment. She knows she isn't exactly Spike's kind of girl, though, so she decides she needs to make some changes. Currently rated for language and violence. Chap 17 re-uploaded.
1. Session 1

**A/N- My first Cowboy Bebop story! I've been sitting on this for a long, long time. I love Cowboy Bebop, but its mood is way different than anything I've ever written before. I'm working hard to keep everything in character. **

**Anyways, just a heads up- the character's ages in this are all mixed up. Edward's still young, but the age difference between her and Spike isn't as dramatic as 14 years. Also, this story occurs a couple years after Spike got shot up in the Red Dragon Crime Syndicate. So, yeah, I think that's what you need to know. **

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Prologue

Edward couldn't remember ever wanting anything. When she thought about it, the only memories she could dredge up revolved around food. And really, food was a human necessity. If her body didn't need food, Edward wondered if she would want it.

Spike slowly stood, and Edward remembered the question.

Had she ever _really_ wanted anything?

Edward remembered initially finding the Bebop and then tracking the ship until they finally arrived on Earth. She remembered their attempted escape, and she remembered hacking their system and forcing a turn-around.

The memory was hazy, and she immediately knew that the day wasn't the same as this moment, the last few moments. Edward couldn't remember _any_ distinct time before the Bebop. It was as if she was born a teenager. Edward knew she had family. She knew she had traveled Earth. She knew she had traveled beyond Earth, then back to Earth. She knew she had met people, fantastic and wonderful people. She knew there had been adventures. She knew there had been fun.

Yet, all she really knew was of the Bebop, and now she understood why.

* * *

Edward followed Spike into the dining area. When he slid into a seat, she climbed into the seat across from him. Then, she looked at him.

His shirt was open, so she could see his blood-stained bandages. Some of the blood even soaked through the light fabric of the shirt he wore. His sleeves were rolled, like they always were, and Edward could see the bandages surrounding one of the nastier wounds above his wrist. After patching that wound, Jet had raged about infection for an hour.

Despite his wounds, Spike's face was impassive. He calmly smoked his cigarette, and he only indicated his discomfort when he fidgeted with some bandages near his temple. His dark hair was unwashed, unkempt, and it seemed wilder than usual. There were still clumps of blood at the edge of his hairline that Faye wasn't able to wash away while she was cleaning him up after the fight.

"What are you looking at?" Spike snapped at Edward.

Edward had never felt the need to hide anything before. She spoke her mind when she liked. She said every thought that came to her. However, she now felt that some sense of discretion was required. Edward didn't believe that Spike would appreciate it if she told him what was on her mind.

Of course, lying wasn't something Edward had ever done, and she was especially uncomfortable with the idea of lying to Spike, so she avoided his question altogether and asked, "Why do you get hurt so often?"

The reminder of his wounds did nothing to improve Spike's mood. "Jet says it's because I don't have any sense of self-preservation."

"Is Jet right?" Edward asked.

Spike scowled at the girl. It had been a long time since someone had truly asked him about his actions. When Jet or Faye asked him questions, they were more accusatory than honestly curious.

"Of course not. I'm still here, aren't I?" Spike finally answered before taking another long drag from his cigarette.

"Then why?" Edward repeated.

Spike shrugged at her, the movement aggravating some of his injuries. "What can I say? I like a good fight, and I can't duck _every _bullet."

"Is that why your eyes are different colors?" Edward asked.

Her question startled Spike, and he paused to stare at her from a moment.

"Yes," he said.

* * *

**Annoying Note: This was a short first chapter, but I really only wanted to give a general introduction to the story. The next chapter will have a lot more information on the time-line of this story, and it will kind of set the scene for what's really going on with Edward. I have another twenty pages written already, so the first few updates for this story will be quick. **

**Please review and tell me what you think. I never write characters like these, so it might take some practice and revision until I get it right. I think Writing from Edward's POV is especially hard because she's hardly anything but wonky in the show, and her character isn't expanded on like the others are, so anyone who writes Edward is kind of building their own character. I'll try to stay true to Bebop, though. Tell me how I'm doing!  
**


	2. Session 2

**A/N- Chapter 2 is here! It's a little longer, and I hope it gives you a good idea of what's going on. Enjoy!**

Spike, Spike, Spike. Spike, Spike, Spike. Spike, Spike, Spike.

"What do you think, Ein?" Edward asked. She threw herself down onto the iron floor, swung her legs over the ledge and looked down at Spike. He lay on the faded white couch, asleep. From her high angle, Edward had a good view of his long, slender form, his wide chest, and his sharp profile.

At Edward's question, Ein sat next to Edward and looked through the railing at the sleeping Spike.

"He's a good human, right?"

Edward didn't know what a good human consisted of, and she didn't know how to decide if Spike was a good human, so she gave it some serious thought.

Spike never hurt her. Not physically, anyways. And the mean things he said never really upset her. He certainly didn't talk to Edward the way he spoke to Faye. And he tolerated Edward's eccentricities more than the rest of the Bebop crew did. Spike didn't go out of his way for her, sure, but he didn't go out of his way for _anyone_. Still, when he did interact with Edward, Spike wasn't cruel.

Edward realized she was thinking in circles, and there _had_ to be something else that was good about the man.

Was Spike a good person when he drank? Was he a good person when he smoked? Was he a good person when he irritated Faye, or when he left Jet to do most of the work around the Bebop?

Edward decided not to kid herself. She knew why she liked Spike. She liked him because he had long fingers, a defined chest, a sharp jaw and cool, sharp eyes. Good had nothing to do with it.

Still, it would be nice if the man had _some_ positive traits.

After racking her brain, Edward decided that Spike took care of his space-craft. While Jet had to do all the repairs on the ship, Spike still knew his way around the Swordfish's engine, and he preformed tune-ups on the ship regularly.

Edward also admired Spike for finishing what he started. Edward wondered if she could count this as one of his positive traits, though. As she studied the bandages around his chest, she remembered the situation which led to his injuries. Spike and Jet had gone after the bounty and they'd gotten into a tussle with the man. Spike was roughed up with a few bruised ribs. He should have stayed behind on the Bebop to recuperate while Faye and Jet took care of it, but by then he was worked up. Spike insisted on helping capture the man. The man fought just as violently the second time as he had the first time, and Spike had been slowed down a little by his sore ribs, and he had been shot. After considering Spike's predicament, Edward thought of the man who hurt Spike to begin with. He was in jail, and the Bebop crew had received a hefty bounty for him. So then, yes. Spike made to finish what he started.

Edward pointedly ignored the little voice in the back of her head which told her he only finished what he started because he was stubborn and had a penance for revenge, and these traits couldn't be considered positive values.

When she was done deliberating, Edward looked to Ein. The dog was staring at her the same way he often stared at Faye.

"Yeah," Edward agreed. "But I think I'll give it a try anyways."

Edward knew perfectly well that liking Spike would involve more than a simple "try." But then, Edward wanted this. She had never wanted anything before, but she wanted this. She wanted Spike.

While she was looking down at Spike, Edward decided that even if it took more than a try, she would have Spike.

* * *

When Edward saw Spike differently, she had to see the rest of the Bebop differently, as well. She thought it was only fair. Therefore, when she sat down to dinner, she looked, really looked, at the people sitting with her at the table.

She had lived with these people for almost four years, so she knew about them. She knew that Spike caused all the trouble, but Faye was the true antagonistic figure within the crew. She also knew that Jet was the one who took care of the other Bebop members, and he was the only one who was really attached to the other crew members and their lifestyle.

Beyond that, though, she didn't _know_ them. Edward recognized that truly knowing these people was somehow dangerous, but she also thought that it was about time she introduced a little danger into her life. After all, she was looking to hang around Spike, and he was about as dangerous as they got.

"Forget work," Faye said as she gracelessly shoveled food into her mouth. "We've got money-"

"What you _mean_ is that you've got money for a few good days in the casinos," Jet snapped. "Just because we have enough to eat for a while doesn't mean we can just stop working! The bounties are hot right now! We need the money for the Bebop, for the Redtail, for the Swordfish, for the Hammerhead, for the kitchen stove, for some replacement drainage pipes, to replace the television after you-"

Faye leaned across the table, her eyes meeting Jet's. "Okay," she said. "Obviously, Spike is out, which mean's I'll be doing his half."

Jet's eye twitched. "What do you want?"

"My zip-craft get's the first tune-up. And I want my own bathroom."

"Forget about it," Jet snapped. "I'll set up a second bathroom, but you don't get dibs."

"Fine," Faye answered, leaning back in her chair with a flip of her glossy hair. "You can get the bounties on your own."

"Look you-"

"I'll help you, Jet," Edward announced, sitting strait in her seat.

The table fell quiet as three pairs of eyes moved to the seventeen-year-old girl.

"_You_?" Faye asked.

"Edward," Jet sighed, "you're in charge of info and tracking. You stay here-"

"But Spike can't do any work," Edward argued. "And Faye wants to go to the races. I can help! Besides, this way, none of the money goes to the casinos-"

"Now wait a minuet-" Faye interrupted.

"You're too young," Jet announced, and he shook his head. "I will not have you getting mixed up with that lot when you're only fourteen-"

"I'm seventeen!" Edward argued. "And my birthday is in four months! I'm old enough-"

"No!" Jet snapped. "You can't take care of yourself! And I'm not giving you a-a gun, or-"

"She can use mine," Spike suggested.

"Don't encourage this!" Jet snapped at the man.

"What if Faye goes, too?" Edward asked. "Then can I go? And I'll just watch or something. Just to see how it's done."

"Too dangerous," Jet said gruffly while shaking his head.

"I know how to take care of myself!" Edward argued. "I take care of myself all the time, whenever I go away from the Bebop. And I've dealt with bounties before!"

"She's got a point," Spike told Jet. "And Faye will be doing the work, not her-"

"You be quiet! You're just trying to cause trouble!" Jet snapped.

"She's eventually going to join in anyways," Spike continued. "I mean, it's not like we're sending her to school. What else do you expect her to do? And the sooner she starts, the better she'll be."

"And when did you start, Spike?" Faye snapped, "Since you're so great?"

Spike shrugged and rolled the comment off his shoulders before continuing with his meal.

"Come on, Jet! I won't get involved, and Faye will be there-"

"Fine! But you _stay away_," Jet demanded. "You know how messy bounties can get. And Faye, you have to help me keep an eye on her."

"I never agreed to this," Faye snapped. "You know my demands-"

"You aren't getting a private bathroom!" Jet declared.

"What if I share it with her?" Edward proposed. "You know, a girl's bathroom and a guy's bathroom?"

"I like that!" Spike told Jet. He stared pointedly at Faye. "I'll even help you set up a separate water heater."

Faye flipped her hair behind her ear. "Beauty takes time, Lunkhead. But what would you know about beauty? Or cleanliness, for that matter? When was the last time you showered?"

"I don't know," Spike told her. "Before I was shot twice?"

"Then it's settled!" Jet said, his voice rising over Spike's and Faye's. "Faye will work, Edward will come, and the girls get their own bathroom."

At this announcement, Faye leaned comfortably back in her chair, a wide smirk spreading across her face. When Edward caught her eye, Faye gave the girl a wink. Edward knew that the wink was a special wink just between the two of them. Faye never winked at Jet or Spike.

"Hey," Jet said, looking up from his plate. "Are you really seventeen?"

"Sure," Edward answered.

Jet grumbled unhappily towards his food. Edward recognized small phrases such as "too long," "too old," "this great lot," and so on.

"You're almost a woman!" Faye declared. "Why didn't you tell me? I'll need to take you shopping – after you've helped catch a few bounties, of course. I can show you the town and-"

"Ed doesn't need to learn how to be a woman from _you_," Spike told Faye. "One wench is enough for this ship."

"Oh, then I guess _you_ can tell her what's up, then?"

"Don't be a bad influence, Faye," Jet demanded. "If she comes back to the ship and starts wearing shorts like yours, I'll drop you off at a convent."

Spike laughed, but Faye grumbled a sour, "Don't joke."

"Who's joking?" Jet returned.

**Annoying Note: The first portion of the chapter was difficult to write, but it's how I thought Edward might initially approach a crush on Spike. **

**Ok, so am I the only person on the planet who watches Cowboy Bebop with the subtitles? The subtitles hardly ever match what is being verbally said by the actors, but I find that they offer their own kind of information for what's going on in the show. So in the second portion of the chapter, when Spike says, "One wench is enough for this ship," I'm making a reference to something that Spike said in the subtitles, but not verbally. At the end of the third session, when Faye steals leaves with their money, I always crack up when Spike says (out loud) something like, "She got us," but the subtitles say, "That wench!" He says it again, later in the series, too. Seriously, there's a lot more cussing in the subtitles than what's actually said. Heh, the more you know, right? **

**So there's my silly rant. Review, please!  
**


	3. Session 3

**A/N-I don't own Cowboy Bebop.**

"It's all about style, kid," Faye told Edward as she pushed her headband into her hair. When Faye was done studying her own appearance in the mirror, she threw a brush to Edward. "Your head can't look like a mop, or these guys won't respect you. And if you look feminine, they'll be surprised when you kick their ass."

Edward flinched as she pulled the brush through her tangled hair. Then, she pondered over Faye's advice.

Finally, Edward decided Faye was contradicting herself. Was Faye looking for respect, or was she hoping that guys would see her as a weak girl?

Still, Edward understood that looks were important. Even the guys spent time on their style. Spike shaved every morning, and Jet always made sure people saw the metal patch on his face and his mechanical arm when he met them.

Faye wanted to look smart and tough, like the guys did. But she was playing on her sexuality, too, and so some of the effect was lost.

Still, Faye caught plenty of bounties, and the guys always set her up as bait, so her style was useful for something, even if it wasn't the kind of something Edward wanted.

"Oh, Edward," Faye sighed. "Don't you ever use conditioner?"

Edward looked into the mirror, and she frowned at her reflection. Hygiene had never, ever been a concern for her. Now, she saw that if she wanted to grow up, she would have to begin actually washing her hair when she showered.

"Let's just go put your head in the sink. You can use my shampoo and conditioner," Faye suggested.

Edward couldn't help but drag her feet as Faye led her towards the bathroom.

"And when was the last time you had your hair cut?" Faye asked. "It looks like you used a rusty knife on yourself."

Edward _had_ used a rusty knife.

Edward reached back and felt her hair. She only cut it when she left the Bebop, because she sometimes got fleas when she was living on her own. When she went back to the Bebop, though, she allowed it to grow again. So then how long had it been since her last trip away from the ship?

Edward realized it had been a year.

This revelation was startling. She had never spent an entire strait year on the Bebop before. She usually only stayed for no longer than six months before going on her own hand having an adventure for a month or two. Yet, during the past year, going on another adventure had never even crossed Edward's mind.

* * *

"Where are some scissors?" Faye called from the kitchen for a third time.

"They should be in there," Jet called from his place in front of the computer. "Why does she even need scissors?" he grumbled to himself after he'd answered the question _again_.

"Faye's going to cut my hair, so it doesn't look like it's been cut with a rusty knife anymore," Edward informed him.

Jet looked up from the computer screen, blinking. "When did your hair get so long? When did it get so flat?"

"It's been growing for a year," Edward informed him. "I just never wash it, so it was all tangled, is all. Faye made me brush it."

"Is that what you've been doing all afternoon?" Jet scoffed. "Faye's been giving you a make-over?"

"Well, yeah. Faye says that if I'm going to be a bounty hunter, I have to look good," Edward explained. "Isn't that right?"

"Edward, appearance isn't even _half_ of it," Jet sighed. "It's all about the research. I've been looking for you all afternoon so you could help me track the guy we're looking for."

Now, Edward laughed. "I already know all about the research part of it-"

"You don't," Jet argued. "You only know about the electronic search. We're going to have to search for this guy on foot, you know? You'll need to learn how to interview people, you'll need to learn to find your way around unfamiliar cities, you'll need to make connections-"

"Like your friend Bob and Spike's friend Laughing Bull?" Edward asked. She knew Bob personally, because Ed was always the person who answered his calls. Laughing Bull, though, was someone Edward had only heard of.

"Um…" Jet said. "Kind of. But you get the point, right? You need to spend your time searching for the guy rather than making yourself look nice for when you _do_ catch him."

"Hey!" Faye snapped as she came into the living area. "Looks are an important part of the searching for the guy, too! People talk to me all the time."

"I'm not encouraging Edward to look like you," Jet snapped. "And people don't 'talk to you all the time.' You hardly _ever_ do the foot work. You only ever show up when it's time to shoot your gun-"

"Hey!" Spike called from the hall. "Are you going after a bounty tonight?"

"Yeah," Jet told him. "Why?"

"Can you drop by the hardware store while you're out? We'll need to replace some of these pipes. They haven't been used in _years_."

"Yeah," Jet grumbled. To Faye, he said, "You'd better pull your weight this time, Valentine. This bathroom of yours is turning _expensive_."

* * *

"Can my tomato fit?" Edward asked as Jet arranged the supplies.

"It should fit under your seat," he said simply as he began loading equipment into his ship.

"You're not riding with me?" Faye asked.

"Your zip-craft is too small," Edward told her. "And my legs would be cramped."

"I guess," Faye pouted. To Jet, she asked, "Is there going to be a lot of foot work with this one?"

"Yeah," he answered. "There's a chance we won't even find him tonight." Looking at Edward, Jet grinned. "You chose a safe night to start after all. We shouldn't see too much action."

"Hey, Edward," Faye called from beside her zip-craft. "Go pack some snacks or grab some food money or something. It will probably be a long night."

Edward nodded, then hurried to do as Faye commanded. As she passed the Swordfish, Spike said, "Hey."

Edward stopped next to him. She forgot all about getting snacks when he took her attention.

"Hey!" Edward greeted. "How long have you been there? I-"

"Hush," Spike demanded, his voice low. "If Jet finds out I'm doing this, he'll scalp me."

"Doing wha-"

Spike reached behind his back and pulled his Jericho from under his shirt.

The metal was still warm from his skin when he dropped it into Edward's hands.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't believe Jet when he says it'll be a slow night," Spike demanded. "People get upset real fast when they find out there's a bounty hunter near-by, and people are never predictable when they're upset."

"But… I don't know how to shoot a gun," Edward told him.

"It's not loaded," Spike scoffed. "It's a bluff."

Edward suddenly felt much better about holding the gun. If it wasn't loaded, she wouldn't kill anyone.

"But a gun is still a tall bluff," Spike told her, "and you have to be smart about pulling it out and waving it around at people, got it?"

"Yeah-"

"I mean it," Spike said, leaning down to fully meet Edward's eyes. "Be smart."

That was rich advice coming from the guy who had had more bullets in him than he had teeth.

Still, Edward nodded at him, and when she was walking towards the kitchen, she replayed the whole conversation in her head.

By the time she had made sandwiches for the road, Edward was telling herself that when Spike said "Be smart," he was really telling her "Be careful."

**Annoying Note- Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Nothing real big happened, but I thought a few good little things happened. More is on the way!**

**Review!  
**


	4. Session 4

**A/N- Here's another chapter! Enjoy!**

Jet took a square hit in the jaw, and Faye had been tossed to the other side of the bar. Edward saw the members of the Bebop often come back to the ship bruised. However, she never thought to ask how they got those bruises. She only cared when someone (usually Spike) got shot or stabbed.

"Is it always like that?" Edward asked Jet as they flew towards the Bebop.

"What?" Jet asked.

"Do they always fight like that?" Edward asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Usually. We go for the big bounties. That means we go after the guys who've committed pretty bad crimes and they have a lot at stake. The cheaper bounties are usually a little more spineless, and they cave when you point a gun at them. Of course, this stuff also gets pretty violent when you actually walk in on a crime."

Jet was talking fine, despite his split lip. And even though she had been shoved and tossed around during the entire ordeal, Faye's hips swayed when she dropped their bounty off at the jail.

Was that what Faye really meant when she was talking about appearance? At one point during the fighting, Edward was sure Faye would have her arm broken. Yet, the girl walked strait with her head held high.

"I'll tell you something about big bounties, Edward," Jet said. "A bust lip is worth the two thousand woolongs we got for that guy."

* * *

"Hey, kid, you going shopping with me or what?" Faye called.

Edward's eyes waivered from the computer screen. She wasn't used to being interrupted from her net diving, yet these interruptions had become increasingly frequent.

Ed opened her mouth to tell Faye no when the girl physically jerked Edward away from her Tomato.

"We're going out!" Faye informed Jet as they passed by the kitchen.

"Will you be back for dinner?" Jet asked.

"No!" Faye answered simply, and she pulled Edward towards the hanger.

"What are we going shopping for?" Edward asked Faye.

"Well we're going to a spa, first," Faye answered. "We're getting the full treatment, and we'll get you some product for your hair. I mean, you can't use my shampoo and conditioner. Your hair is so much thicker than mine, and the color – you'll need something different than what I use. Then we'll go shopping – do you even own a bra?"

"A bra?" Edward asked, looking down at herself. Edward supposed she had begun growing up a while ago, but she hadn't grown up _that _much.

"What rock have you been living under?" Faye asked. "Come on, kid. I have a lot more work to do with you than I thought I did."

* * *

Edward studied Faye closely. Three men were looking at her in that moment. Ed briefly wondered if they looked at the tall woman because of how low cut her black dress was, but then Edward decided it was because of the way Faye was gently swaying her hips to the music.

Edward mocked the woman's movements for only a second before she came back to herself. After all, Edward didn't doubt that with enough practice, she could move just like Faye and gain just as much attention as the twenty-five year old.

But Edward wanted Spike's attention, and Faye's way wasn't the way to catch that man's eye. Edward knew just what Spike thought of Faye's attitude and style.

Still, there was _something_ to Faye's methods, and Edward wondered what it was.

Edward watched as Faye manipulated a man into buying her a drink. Edward noticed the ring on the man's finger, and then she noticed that the man wasn't really interested in Faye. At least, he wasn't interested in Faye as far as cheating on his wife went. But now he was leaning towards Faye and giving her a friendly smile which only hinted at flirtation. They were talking, and the man looked like he was enjoying himself.

Then, the waiter came and placed two salads on the table in front of Ed.

Faye, noticing the movement at their table, gave the man a wave as she took her drink away from the bar. The man replied with a friendly farewell, then turned back to the sports game playing on the television above the bar.

Faye was scowling.

"What's the matter?" Edward asked when Faye sat down.

"I hate meeting good men," Faye answered sourly as she stabbed a fork into her salad. "The very idea is contradicting to the nature of the word man."

Edward looked to the man still sitting at the bar.

Ed had met plenty of good men. Jet was a good man. Ed's father was a good man. Spike was- Well, Jet was a good man. And Ed had met other good men while she traveled.

"Why don't you like meeting good men?" Edward asked.

Faye appeared taken aback by the question. The woman's eyes became sharp. Faye was suddenly very aware – aware of the conversation, aware of where they were, aware of herself.

"Well," she said, "Because nothing good ever lasts."

"Never?" Ed asked.

"Never," Faye confirmed.

* * *

Jet whistled when he saw the girls. "I guess you two had a good time. Edward, you didn't spend all of your money, did you?"

"Yes!" Edward declared proudly.

"Faye, you can't teach her the same irresponsible habits as yours," Jet began with a sigh. "You can't let her-"

"She spent all the money on junk for her computer, Jet," Faye interrupted. "_I _wanted to go spend it on another two hours at the spa."

"You spent it on your computer?" Jet asked stupidly.

"Sure!" Edward answered. "I got a second server, and a security program I can use as a base for a new hacking program."

"Um," Jet began.

"And we brought souvenirs!" Ed stated while holding up a bag.

"Is it food?" Spike asked as he came into the living area from the kitchen. He already had a sandwich in his hands.

"Yes," Edward told him.

"Let's see then-" Jet began, but Faye placed herself between his hands and the bag of food.

"No way," Faye snapped. "It's for lunch tomorrow. Spike's going to grill-"

"Is it steak?" Spike asked. "Let's see."

"Forget it!" Faye snapped. "We're saving it for when we're at Ganymede tomorrow."

"Why do we have to wait for Ganymede?" Spike immediately argued. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for a steak, or any sort of meet at all, for that matter?"

"We're saving it for Ganymede because there's nothing to do at that place!"

"Nothing to do?" Jet snapped. "The whole reason we're going to Ganymede is so we can get new parts for the Bebop, and for your Red Tail, and just who do you think is going to be spending the better part of the next week _installing_ those brand new parts in your Red Tail-"

"Oh, please," Faye said flippantly. "I've been pulling my weight-"

"You've been wasting money again-"

The bickering was drowned out by the sound of the television. Spike, bored with the common topic and suddenly frustrated with his bologna sandwich, had gone to sit on the couch and was now staring at the flickering screen. Edward briskly dropped her bags and went to join him.

"Ed, you can't leave the meat out, you have to put it into refrigeration!" Faye cried.

**Hey! I hoped you enjoyed the chapter. Review, please!**


	5. Session 5

**A/N- Here's another chapter for you. Enjoy!**

Edward watched a familiar process.

Jet cut the bandages away from Spike, then washed the Blue Goop away from the stitches. Edward examined the wounds from afar.

They were healing quickly. Of course, that was the Blue Goop's doing. Soon, there wouldn't even be a scar to indicate that a bullet had ripped through the skin.

"They still look pretty messy," Jet told Spike, "But they're mostly healed." At the end of his statement, Jet grabbed for the basic healing supplies and began to reapply Blue Goop to Spike's wounds. "We'll be able to take out the stitches tomorrow, I think."

"But they're okay?" Spike asked.

"Sure… Why?" Jet asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowed.

"I've got business," Spike stated.

"Business, huh?" Jet asked. "In that case, you can take the kid along-"

"Now hold on a minuet," Spike immediately began to argue.

"No, you hold on," Jet snapped back. "You're the one who was pushing to let Ed in on the bounties, and if it's business you're well enough to take care of when you're still busted up, then it's business you can take Ed along for. Besides, it may have slipped your mind, but I haven't forgotten those fat stakes the girls brought home yesterday, and if I'm working maintenance, then you're working grill. I want you _back for lunch_, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," Spike grumbled irritably.

When Spike looked to Edward, his eyes were unusually dark.

* * *

Spike's Swordfish wasn't built for two people, let alone two people and Edward's Tomato.

"Where do you put your equipment when you're hunting a bounty?" Edward asked as she folded herself to fit behind the pilot's seat. Her legs were mashed up against her chest, and she braced her arms awkwardly on the sides of the cockpit.

"I don't carry equipment," Spike answered.

"Really?" Ed asked. "Jet uses all sorts of equipment."

"Jet does his work a different way than I do," Spike explained. "He does work the police way."

"Faye has a lot of equipment, too, though," Edward argued.

"Faye does her work the wrong way."

"How is it wrong?" Edward asked. The Swordfish gave a sharp jerk as it took off and flew away from the Bebop.

"It's wrong because it isn't work. Faye's skills lie in making other people do work for her," Spike explained.

"What kind of way do you do your work?" Ed asked.

Spike shrugged. "I do it my way."

That answer was very much like Spike, and Edward couldn't keep from rolling her eyes.

"Well, what kind of bounty is this?" Edward asked. "Jet say's there are cheep bounties and big bounties."

"This is a big bounty," Spike said shortly.

"Oh," Edward said quietly. She wondered if Spike was up to a big bounty, what with his wounds. Sure, he was getting better quick, but not quick enough to be ready for a big bounty.

The Swordfish landed at the edge of a port town, and Spike helped Edward out of the ship.

"This way," Spike immediately commanded, and Edward followed him into the small town.

They found a small, bright diner and took a booth in the corner.

It wasn't the kind of place Edward thought a bounty would be. Edward knew from experience that it was easiest to hide in a crowd, and she thought that whoever was hiding in this tiny little town, isolated from any major populations, was an idiot.

Still, it was a beautiful day on Ganymede, and the port's small population ensured that there was no noise pollution. The tall windows let in plenty of light, and the overhead lights didn't even have to be turned on.

The people inside the diner were perfect for the town and this sun. They sat in twos and threes around tables and booths. Two people sat next to each other at the counter. Their faces were clear in the sunlight, and they kept quiet conversations.

"Edward?" Spike asked, his voice just as quiet as the people at their neighboring tables.

"Yeah?"

"Where did you go whenever you left the Bebop?" he asked.

No one ever asked Edward where she went. She heard the other Bebop members gang up on each other regarding location all the time, but no one ever demanded an explanation from Edward.

"I-I don't know. I went all over the place," Edward answered. "I'm pretty sure I've been to Mars and Venus, but usually Earth. Earth was always a good place to go to because it was such a mess. It's a good place to hide."

"Who were you hiding from?" Spike asked.

"No one," Edward said simply. "I mean, I'm Radical Edward, so I had to keep a look-out for police. But… it was mostly a game. They were great adventures, and you need an enemy in adventures, so I made one, and then I hid from him. It was a great excuse to keep moving and keep exploring."

Spike was frowning at her words.

"What's the matter?" Edward asked, studying his eyes and frown.

"When I was your age, I had already grown up," he answered. "I didn't have adventures or play games. I only hid."

"Then what were _you_ hiding from?" Edward asked.

"When I was your age? I guess I was hiding from the police, too," he told her.

* * *

When he walked into the diner, he moved strait towards their table.

At first, he looked like he fit in with the other patrons of the diner. He wore thick working boots, old jeans, a faded button-up shirt, and a cap over his long hair. However, when he slid into the booth next to Edward, she could tell just how much he _wasn't_ like the people of this small fishing town. While the workers of the town sat hunched and slightly bowed from years of hard work, he sat strait and proud. When he drummed his fingers on the tabletop, Edward noticed that his fingers were thin and long. Although he had calluses, they weren't working calluses, and his hands seemed delicate rather than strong.

"Who's your friend?" the man asked Spike. The words were sharp and clear, unlike the drawling speech of the workers who frequented the diner. He held his hand out, and Spike gave him his last cigarette.

"She works with me on the Bebop," Spike explained as he handed over a lighter, as well.

"I thought Faye was the only woman you lived with," the man answered, the right corner of his lip turning upwards in a mocking leer.

Then, Edward knew.

Spike brought Edward to meet Vicious.

Edward was sure the man was dead. She hadn't been on the Bebop when it happened, but she remembered returning to the Bebop to find that Spike was still healing from a nasty encounter with Vicious and the Red Dragons. She remembered how unhappy Spike was, how much he drank. She recalled Jet and Faye fighting. Faye said it wasn't fair. Jet said that if Vicious wasn't already dead, he'd hunt the man down and kill him again.

Jet didn't usually make mistakes about people being dead.

"Why'd you bring her?" Vicious asked Spike, motioning to the girl he sat next to in the booth.

"Jet made me bring her," Spike answered easily.

"So now you're only the babysitter?" Vicious mocked.

"She's old enough to look after herself," Spike told Vicious. "And she's provided you with a solution to your problem."

"What's that?" Vicious pressed, leaning over the table towards Spike.

"Earth. She pointed out that the planet is a mess. No one could follow you there."

"You're hiding from something?" Edward asked, inserting herself into the conversation.

Vicious took a long inhale from his cigarette instead of giving Edward any sort of response.

"You should go to sector seventy-two. There are territory wars there all the time, and it has the greatest concentration of debris in the atmosphere, so no one knows what's up or down there. No one there'd notice you, and even if they did, they wouldn't care."

"You think it would be easy for me to blend in?" Vicious asked. He set his arm across the back of Edward's seat and leaned over her to look into her eyes.

Edward wondered if he was trying to be intimidating. He should know it wouldn't work, because he had the same sharp eyes as Spike, and Edward had been looking Spike in the eye for four years.

"Sure," Edward told him. "The best and the worst people are in sector seventy-two. You'd blend in like a chameleon on a cactus."

"How the hell am I supposed to get to Earth?" Vicious asked, exhaling a long line of smoke as he spoke.

"We'll get you there-"

"Shut your mouth, kid," Spike demanded.

"_You_ shut up," Vicious snapped back to Spike. "The kid's giving me more than you've gotten me in months. I want to listen to her."

"If Jet and Faye find you on the Bebop, they'll do worse than what will happen to you if you're found here," Spike argued.

Vicious turned towards Spike and their eyes met. With a curse, Spike reached across the table and snatched the cigarette from Vicious' mouth and stuck it back in his own.

"Well?" Vicious demanded, turning back to Edward.

"Like I said, we'll take you to Earth. Spike's right, though. If Jet and Faye find you, they'll cut off your legs, gut you, and send your entrails into outer space."

Vicious turned his eyes to Spike, who shook his head. "They'd just shoot you or something," he said flatly. And to Edward, he asked, "How do you expect to get him to Earth?"

"I can find a bounty there," Edward said with a shrug. "One that will make a trip to sector seventy-two worth while."

"It's nice to see you're making friends with people more useful than Jet Black and Faye Valentine," Vicious told Spike as he leaned back in the booth. "What's your name, kid?"

"Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV," she answered.

Vicious turned to Spike again as if to confirm Edward's very existence, and Spike gave a minute shake of his head, as if to answer _no, she's not real_.

**Annoying Note: Oh my gosh, it's plot! Stuff is HAPPENING! Whoot! Review, please, and give me some of that feedback.**


	6. Session 6

Edward had never had steak before, and she liked it, even if Spike burnt the edges a little. Faye had managed to put together a decent salad, and Jet had found some only-a-little-old vegetables to add to the grill.

Edward recalled having a meal like this only once before. It was in celebration of a big bounty, one of Spike's first bounties after healing from the Red Dragons. The bounty had been more money than the crew had seen in a long, long time. Faye became strange for a few days, buying Jet and Spike new, nice suits and Edward a skirt. Then, Faye had bought a spread like nothing Edward had ever seen before. There was more than just steak and salad. The group had dressed in their new nice cloths, and they'd eaten for hours.

Edward wondered why this little bar-b-q on Ganymede felt so similar to the extravagant meal they'd shared so long ago. The group had come into a bit of money again, sure. But this… it wasn't like last time. They weren't celebrating Edward's return to the Bebop, like last time, and they weren't celebrating Spike's survival. After Vicious, the group had never again gotten upset about Spike being shot up.

Edward stopped eating so she could try to decipher why the afternoons were similar.

No one was dressed nice, like before. Spike was barefoot on the ship's deck, and he was shirtless in Ganymede's warm atmosphere. He whistled a listless tune as he flipped the meat on the grill and fidgeted with the apron he wore with his free hand. Edward saw that one of the metal clasps holding the worn apron to his shoulders was rubbing and irritating the bare skin it sat against. Spike was restless on his feet, shifting from foot to foot. Edward recognized that he was probably thinking about their meeting with Vicious that morning. Spike hadn't been worried or preoccupied last time they'd eaten like this. He'd been drunk and uncaring.

Edward's eyes shifted to Jet, who had taken the Resin-Reactor from Faye's Redtail and was grumbling to himself as he fumbled with it. Like Spike, he was shirtless in the hot sun. It was one of the few times Edward had seen where his arm connected to his chest, and Edward thought it looked painful where the metal was pinched into his skin. There were deep indentations around the metal, and the skin was a little blue and discolored around the clamp-like device. However, Jet didn't move like it hurt, so Edward guessed it didn't. Jet's attention kept wondering from his project, though. His eyes would wonder to the grill, and he would watch the steaks sizzle for a few moments before he would try to turn his attention back to his work. Then, his eyes would slide over to Faye, who was spread on a lawn chair in only a bright, revealing bathing suit. She ate squares of cheese and looked through a magazine while waiting for her portion of the steak.

It was only when Edward looked to Faye that she realized why this meal was similar to their previous good meal together.

Faye looked happy. Her legs were bent at the knees and crossed, and her foot bobbed in the air to a beat no one could hear. For once, her grace and soft composure wasn't forced, and she truly looked comfortable and natural where she sat. Her hair was twisted away from her face, and her eyes weren't covered. She wasn't trying to act tough for anyone, and she wasn't trying to draw anyone's eye (even if she _was_ drawing Jet's).

And then Edward noticed that Jet, too, was happy. He didn't have to look over Spike's or Faye's shoulders to make sure they were being responsible and doing their work. He wasn't worried about looking for a bounty or finding something as simple as a meal, either. He was busy working on Faye's Redtail, sure. But then, Jet wasn't comfortable unless he was working on _something_, and mechanical work was familiar and easy to him.

Then Spike… Spike wasn't necessarily happy, but Edward knew that Spike was never happy. No, Spike looked _alive_. Spike hadn't whistled like that in a long time, and even though it was obvious that he was mussing over a heavy issue, the distracted, torn expression was right on his face.

Spike was very handsome in Edward's eyes right then, and she stopped eating her small steak to watch him for a moment.

"Well?" Spike asked her, and she remembered that she was only eating because she had won the honors of taste-testing the first bite.

"It's good."

"You didn't burn it, did you?" Faye asked from where she sat.

"The crispy bits are the best," Spike told her. "And if you don't like it, you can cook your own damn meat."

At even the briefest hint of the food being done, Jet stood. He immediately began making plates for everyone, piling his own plate the highest with salad and vegetables. After Spike cut portions of steak for everyone, Jet carried a plate to Edward and Faye before settling with his own plate on the edge of the deck by Faye's chair.

"Don't fall in," Faye teased as Jet leaned over the deck to watch a few fish that were jumping in the water.

Edward sat back with her plate, prepared to watch the two, but she was surprised when Spike took the place next to her, leaning against the wall.

"What the hell do you think you're going to do with Vicious?" he asked.

"Me?" Edward answered, blinking.

"Yeah, you. He's all set for going to Earth now. He expects this plan to carry out. I don't feel like dealing with this shit, Edward, so you better come up with some sort of plan."

Edward rolled her eyes. "If you don't want to deal with it, then why are you messing around with him to begin with? I thought this guy was supposed to be dead."

"Lower your voice," Spike demanded in a dead-pan.

"Fine," Edward sighed. "And really, it won't be as hard as you're making it. We can hide him on the ship. The most difficult part will be getting him here. I've already found a few big name bounties in sector seventy-two who we can go for. They're big money, so even Jet will only blink once before agreeing to take the job."

"Where do you expect to hide him on the Bebop?" Spike asked, jabbing his fork at his meal.

"In my room," Edward answered simply.

"You don't… have a room," Spike said slowly.

"And that misconception is why we'll be able to hide him there," Edward said proudly.

"Where is it?" Spike pressed.

"I took over and converted one of the broken coolers in the storage bay," Edward told him. "I mostly use it for keeping my computers and the shoes that Faye keeps buying me. We could easily fit a mattress in there, though."

Spike sighed. "Shit. I'm gonna have to let that guy on my ship, aren't I?"

"It's Jet's ship," Edward reminded.

"That's worse," Spike snapped.

* * *

"We don't need to go to _Earth_," Faye immediately argued. "We've got plenty of money and we're eating fine. And there are bounties here that we can go after. We don't have to travel across the solar system."

Jet nodded his agreement. "Half the reason the Bebop is falling apart is because we use it to travel those long distances. This hunk of junk was only built to fly in the atmosphere around Ganymede. We're better off planet hopping."

"With the bounty on Hutch Varlet, you could have the whole Bebop overhauled. No distance would be a problem, then," Edward argued. Jet's eyebrows rose, and she knew she had his attention. "And that's just one of the guys."

"Wait, wait," Faye interrupted. "How much money are we talking about here?"

"Enough for a new octopus tank," Edward answered as Faye reached across the table and tilted the computer screen towards herself.

Faye's mouth fell open and her cigarette dropped from her fingers. "Holy mother of-"

Jet whistled when he saw the long line of zeros at the bottom of the screen. "Enough for _several million _octopus tanks!"

"What's the catch?" Faye asked, lifting her head to meet Edward's eyes. "Five guys worth millions of woolongs just sitting around Earth, and no one's cashing this in?"

"Well, they aren't just sitting around," Edward argued. "They're in sector seventy-two, which is under the most debris congested portion of the atmosphere. If you sit around in that place, you'll be killed by falling moon rocks before you could sing the opening bar of _Twinkle Little Star_. There are miles of underground tunnels, and new digs are made every day. These guys are kind of hard to find."

"Ug. Foot work," Faye moaned.

"We can handle it," Jet said confidently as he made his way to his own computer and stared researching the project. Quietly, he mumbled, "We only have to figure out how to land on the planet without being destroyed in the process."

"We'll have to land the Bebop in sector sixty-eight and take a ferry to sector seventy two," Edward helpfully supplied.

"Fuck no," Faye said with a shake of her head. "We won't have any easy way out. Crawling around in the tunnels sounds nasty enough."

"Suck it up, Faye," Jet mumbled.

"Fine," the woman snapped. She stood and grabbed her pack of cigarettes from the table as she said, "I'll do it, but only because a bounty like this could _buy_ me a casino! So don't bother talking to me until you have this dumb thing figured out!"

Faye turned on her heal and strut towards her room. Jet picked up his computer and carried it towards his own room, mumbling to himself about useless lazy women and taking all the money for himself.

When the two were gone, Edward went to the couch and sat next to Spike, who was leaning against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, feigning sleep during the "discussion" of their next bounty.

"Those idiots would do anything for the right price," Spike said with a crooked grin, his eyes still closed.

"They'd even escort Vicious across the solar system," Edward agreed.

**Annoying Note: MORE PLOT! Exciting! Anywho, I wanted to make this chapter a little longer, but this was an appropriate place to stop. I hope you liked it. Review, please!**


	7. Session 7

Edward's fingers danced across the keyboard. Cyberspace rushed across her goggles, and the she gently swayed from side to side, as if she was physically contained within the network. She was immersed, surrounded by familiar sights and codes, delirious in the expanse of time and knowledge she continuously stumbled across.

But really, it was all very tiring. Cyberspace was infinite and crowded, and it was a bitch to navigate. However, Edward had her goggles and an intrinsic understanding of anything electronic, and she was comfortable in Cyberspace. Still, it was easy to get lost, and Edward was distracted by a solid thump on her lower back. The world spun out of focus, and she pulled her goggles around her neck and turned before Spike could kick her again.

"Come on," he demanded. "We've got an errand to run." He gave her no other explanation as he turned and started for the hanger.

Excited, Edward sprung to her feet and hurried after him. It was only when she was crammed into the space behind Spike's seat that she realized her goggles were still around her neck. Sighing, she fumbled with the long UBS cord which hung from the goggles before finally braiding it into her long hair.

"Are we getting Vicious?" Edward asked.

"No," Spike grumbled. "I'm taking care of you."

"What?" Edward asked. The very _thought_ of someone taking care of her was strange, but to hear those words coming form Spike was like hearing Ein speak.

"Jet's being stubborn," Spike said, "so I guess it's my job to get you set up."

Edward didn't understand what he was talking about until they were standing in front of the shop.

"My own _gun_!" she cried, clapping.

"You didn't think I'd let you keep my Jericho, did you?" Spike asked, the edges of his lips turning upwards.

"I was hoping you'd forget you gave it to me," Edward answered honestly. After the bounty with Jet and Faye, Edward had hidden the gun. She'd taken it out only twice to hold and look at it. She didn't care much for the cold metal or the gun's power or anything like that. Really, she was happy to hold something which was so close to Spike. The gun was a part of him, and it had seen him through… it had seen him through a lot.

But now, Edward was excited to have a gun of her own. She'd _really_ be a bounty hunter then, and she'd really belong on the Bebop!

When she entered the shop, she immediately saw what she liked. "Can I have that one?" she asked Spike.

"Shot guns aren't exactly inconspicuous, and I don't think they'll do anything for you if you're in a tight spot," Spike answered, unamused. Edward jumped a little as his hand tightly gripped her shoulder and he guided her towards the display cases at the back of the store. "Maybe you should start a little smaller," he suggested.

Edward was pants when it came to finding guns. She was excited by every flash of silver, every new shape. The shop owner, a middle aged man who may as well have been blind for how easily he ignored Edward's age, let her hold every gun she requested.

Spike was the one who finally declared, "This is it." (Edward had said the same words at least twenty times).

Edward accepted the gun only because Spike said it was hers. To Edward, it wouldn't matter how dull the metal was, or how short the barrel. She didn't care if it was too heavy or awkward in her hand. If Spike said it was the one, it was.

That's why Edward was so happy when the gun was placed in her hand, and it just felt _right_.

"The Ruger!" the shop owner said smugly. "It's the MK II suppressor."

The owner began to speak more to Spike when it became obvious that Spike would be paying. Edward only vaguely listened to the man as he spoke about silence and stealth and cleaning procedures. She was more interested in the gun's long, thin barrel, its stainless steel, and the contrasting black handle. The gun looked simple and she thought it would be easy to maintain.

As the store owner rung up their purchase of gun, cleaning equipment and ammo, Spike once again set a heavy hand on Edward's shoulder. Again, she was startled by the physical contact with Spike.

"How's it feel?" he asked.

"It feels great," she answered, making sure to meet his mismatched eyes.

* * *

"Edward," Jet demanded. "What can you tell me about these tunnels?"

Edward moved next to Jet, who was scowling at his computer screen.

"They look like worms," Edward absently laughed as she contemplated the map.

"They probably move like worms, too," Jet grumbled. "Sector seventy-two has a drop rate of 89.4."

"What's that mean?" Faye asked from her place on the couch. She was lounging on her back and reading an old magazine which she'd already read twice. She only asked the question out of boredom.

"It means that so many rocks are falling on this place that 90% of the surface is changed every day," Jet snarled. "We'll be operating solely on electronics to navigate. There won't be any constant landforms to go off of."

"Jet's right," Edward suddenly declared. "The showers will impact the top-most tunnels. All the people probably live in the lower tunnels…"

"We'll probably find Varlet there, then," Faye said as she flipped through her magazine.

"No," Jet argued. "The people in the lower tunnels will live more sedentary life-styles. Varlet's gotten involved in the territory wars, so he'll be closer to the surface."

"Territory wars?" Faye asked, finally throwing her magazine down and sitting up. "The place sounds like a dump. What is there to fight over?"

"Sector seventy-two is located over what used to be Europe," Edward explained. "The human population there is dense, and there aren't enough resources for everyone."

"Ugh. Sounds depressing," Faye complained. "Come on, Ed. Let's go do our nails or something."

Edward moved to follow the older woman. "Ed, wait!" Jet demanded. "The tunnels-?"

"Oh, yeah!" Edward said, remembering that she was supposed to be helping Jet with the bounty.

"I'll be the bathroom," Faye dismissively told Edward as she left the room.

"Well?" Jet finally asked, motioning to the schematics on his computer screen.

"Never trust an Earth map!" Edward commanded. "_Everyone_ knows that! We'll have to use sonic radar, a global magnetic compass, and one of those sketch doddle thingies to find our way around."

"Sketch doddle thingies?" Jet asked lowly. He sat back in his chair and away from his computer, sighing as he ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah, you know," Edward pressed. "That flat do-dad with the touch screen?"

"The Gamie?" Jet asked, perking up in interest. "Oh! Yeah! We can connect it to the radar and it will automatically record the feedback!"

"You got it!" Edward agreed.

"Hey, Ed!" Faye called from the hall beyond. "Are you coming or what?"

Ed glanced to Jet for permission to go. He waved his hand towards Faye's voice. "Don't make her angry. I've already got a headache from all this research."

"Yes sir!" Edward agreed, and she started towards Faye's room. Edward found the woman well into her hygienic routine. Faye had already finished with a shower and was wearing only a robe and a facial mask.

"What took so long?" Faye asked, tossing Edward a small bottle of nail polish.

"Jet didn't know what a sketch doddle thingy was," Edward answered.

"I wonder why something like that would slip his mind," Faye said, a smile curling at the edge of her lips.

* * *

"Psst! Ein! Hey Ein!" Edward nudged the dog from sleep, and he rolled to his paws as he woke. He shook his fur out before looking to Edward.

"Where have you been?" Edward asked. "I haven't seen you in _days_. I thought you'd gotten caught in the vents again. Jet yelled at me when he caught me trying to find a way into them."

Ein cocked his head to the side.

"Look, I have a secret to tell you," Edward told the dog while lowering her voice. "It's about Spike, and I'm not allowed to tell Faye or Jet. I'm about to _burst_!"

Ein gave a yip in response. Edward interpreted this as a vow of silence, so she took the Ruger from where it was strapped around her leg below her skirt.

"Spike bought it for me. Isn't it nice?" Edward mused. "It's not loaded or anything, though. Spike said he'd teach me how to shoot once I was older or… or once we found a good place for target practice; I can't remember which. Until I learn to use it, though, it's only a bluff. And he took me to meet _Vicious_."

Here, Ein's ears turned flat against his head.

"I _know_. You should see the way they look at each other," Edward told the dog. "And they're really weird when they talk. Like, they can read each other's minds, and they can tell that the other wants to kill him, but neither of them moves for a weapon, so they only talk about smuggling Vicious to Earth instead of hurting each other like they want to. And besides, I don't think Vicious even had a knife or anything on him."

When she was finished with her story, Edward sat back with a sigh. "Ein, this growing up stuff is _hard_. Look, Faye made me wash my hair _again_, and it's so long I always have to keep it in a braid." Edward looked at the hair she had braided over her shoulder. She had to wear it like that or it got frizzy and went everywhere. It was so much easier when her hair was short and tangled together at the back of her head. She hadn't had to worry about it then. And it was difficult to keep track of those little hair ties. Faye had given her at least seven, and Edward had lost all of them. She either had to wear her braid loose, or she tied it off with the UBS cord of her goggles.

Edward considered these thoughts, then she suddenly understood why Faye _really_ spent so much time on her appearance. It was easier to worry about hair than the issues which really mattered.

Edward fell to her back, laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. She wrapped her hand around the end of her braid to keep it from falling loose while she considered how to keep Vicious hidden during the journey to Earth.

* * *

"-you haven't so much as lifted a finger-"

"I said I'd help with the leg work-"

"and now you've made a mess of the equipment-"

"_Spike_ was supposed to put that crap up-"

"Spike didn't even go with us for the last bounty!"

"Exactly! That's why _he_ was in charge of the clean up-"

"Bull-"

"Don't you know I'm a lady, _damnit_?"

Jet and Faye were fighting. Faye was threatening to leave again. No one thought she would go through with it – she wouldn't go through with it until after they'd caught the big bounty, if at all.

Edward yawned and typed absently at the computer's keyboard. She wished Spike were here. He kept the old arguments interesting.

But Spike wasn't on the Bebop. He was out getting fresh artillery for his_ Swordfish_, and so Edward was left with Jet and Faye.

She was left with her computer, too, but for some reason, she didn't feel like wandering around Cyberspace. She'd been finding her way into a lot of government programs recently, and it was getting depressing.

But what was there to do besides wandering around Cyberspace? The only idea Edward could come up with was watching Spike. Spike was always interesting, even when he was only lounging on the couch and watching television. Not like Jet and Faye. Those two were so… predictable. Edward knew exactly how their fight was going to end, and she knew that the two would go and sulk by themselves. Today was a Get Away From the Bebop day, so Faye would go to the casinos and Jet would go rage in a bar.

Edward wondered if there was anything for her away from the Bebop. She didn't have money for the casinos, and she wouldn't be allowed to drink for _years_. So what was there for Edward?

Finally, the girl groaned loudly and cried, "There's nothing to do!" Edward fell to the floor with a dramatic sigh as she pulled her goggles from her eyes and threw them to the table beside her Tomato.

Her cry had stopped Jet and Faye's arguing.

"What's that Ed?" Jet asked.

"I'm tired of sitting on the floor, and I can't go to the casino or the bars, so there's nothing to _do_!" Edward repeated.

"Ug. I'm so glad I can't remember being a teenager," Faye sighed with a flip of her hair. "I'm sure it was boring."

"Faye," Jet began, his voice low in warning.

"_What_?" Faye automatically roared when she heard him use _that_ tone to say her name.

"Could you say something appropriate just _once_?"

Edward recognized that she hadn't only interrupted their fight, she'd started them on something completely new. Unwilling to listen to all of that _again_, Edward stood.

"I'm going out," she simply told Ein. "You in?"

Ein rolled to his side and closed his eyes. Edward shrugged. "If I find anything interesting, I'll bring it back," she promised.

She started towards Faye's room, where Edward kept her clothes. She was already wearing a knee-length skirt and a simple tank-top, and Edward saw no reason to change. However, she knew that evenings on Ganymede could get cold, so she stole one of Faye's zip-up jackets.

Edward wandered onto the deck just as Spike was bringing in his star ship. Edward tilted her head as she listened to the engine, and she decided that although the ship was as loud as it had always been, it didn't rattle like it had the last time she'd flown in it. He must have given it a tune-up while he was out.

"Hey, Ed," Spike greeted absently as he climbed from the _Swordfish_ and reached for a cigarette from his pocket. "What are you doing out here?" He eyed her strangely, "And is that Faye's?" he motioned to the jacket she wore.

"How could you tell?" Edward asked, looking down at the blue jacket she wore.

Spike coughed as he began to say, "You'll need to grow a bit before you can fit an of Faye's shirts."

_Oh_, Edward thought with a blush. "I'm going out."

Spike's eyebrows rose. "Yeah? Where to?"

Edward shrugged. "I'll walk until I find something. There's got to be something interesting in the streets."

"Tag along with me, then. There's a bar a couple blocks away. They've got pool tables."

Edward didn't know how to play pool, but she figured the activity wasn't illegal for her to take part in, so she agreed.

As they walked to the bar, Spike spoke through his cigarette as he asked, "What's going on at the Bebop?"

"_Nothing_," Edward sighed. "I mean, Faye and Jet were fighting, but they've had that fight a million times, so it wasn't anything interesting, and there wasn't anything interesting to hack in Cyberspace."

"Huh," Spike grunted.

"What?" Edward asked.

"Nothing," he answered.

Edward sighed. "Spike, why don't you leave whenever you get bored?"

"I do," he answered.

"No you don't. You take a nap on the couch, or you take care of your star ship, or you go to a bar. You don't _leave_ though."

"It's different for adults," Spike answered easily. "We aren't made to wander or-or have _adventures_, like you."

"You don't have responsibilities, though," Edward said, repeating the word that Jet always snarled when the two men fought about bounties.

Spike cracked a smile. "Sure I do. I drag my ass, but I pull my weight. We all do, even you. You think we'd let you stick around if you didn't take care of yourself?"

"No. I never thought that," Edward said. "But… Why do you stay Spike, really?"

Spike scowled. He was reminded of a time almost a month ago, when Edward asked him why he was hurt so often. She'd never asked questions before, had she?

"I stay because it's easy," he said. They were at the bar now, but they stopped just outside the entrance. "We all stay because it's easy."

"Oh," Edward mumbled, scowling at her bare feet. "That's true, isn't it?"

Spike gave a short, bitter smile in response. He took the cigarette from his mouth and offered the last drag to Edward.

Really, she knew the day would come. She'd found cigarette ash in her food countless times, and it seemed like she inhaled more smoke than oxygen. So she accepted the cigarette, took the last drag, and she bravely attempted to hold in a cough as Spike opened the bar's door and motioned her inside.

**Annoying Note: Another chapter, huzzah! This was one of those chapters where a lot of little stuff happened and while some of it was important, it was also mostly filler. Still, I introduced a few little important topics which will be expanded on latter in the story (let's see if you can figure out what they are!).**

**Review, please! I like hearing what people think of this story. It's kind of my favorite right now, and I'm putting a lot into this, so I really appreciate feedback.  
**


	8. Session 8

"Where are the other two?" Vicious asked. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes were sharp and narrow as he took in the details of the Bebop.

"Running errands," Spike said, answering for Jet.

"Faye's at the casino. She'll be gone for a while," Edward put in.

"We're not taking chances, though," Spike announced. "You're getting out of sight _now_."

Spike began to lead the way to the storage bay, where Edward's refrigerator was. She had spent the previous few days clearing her electronics and shoes from the room so that Spike could help her move a mattress and a few drawers into the small space. They'd stocked the room with food for Vicious so that Jet and Faye wouldn't notice food disappearing from the kitchen.

"Cozy," Vicious sneered when he saw where he would be staying for the three week trip to Earth.

"Reminds you of the good ol' days, right?" Spike asked Vicious with a true grin.

Vicious snorted. "I certainly see why you're so attracted to this place. You never could handle the high-life."

Edward blinked at the sudden change in atmosphere. The air buzzed, and there was something electric in men's gazes when their eyes met. They were _grinning_ at each other, and there was only a vague hint of bitterness in their smiles. For a split second, they didn't want to kill each other.

Then, the moment was gone. The deep scowl returned to Vicious' expression and he glared around the small space. "I'm not staying here."

"We'll get you out," Edward promised. "We'll be stopping a few times, and it won't be difficult to get Jet and Faye off the ship for a few minuets."

A loud groan bore through the old ship. The sound was familiar to Spike and Edward, but Vicious was unable to identify the straining gears of the hanger opening, and his suspicious eyes narrowed and swept the storage bay.

"Speak of the devil," Spike mumbled. "Jet can't be back yet…"

"It could be Faye if she had a bad run in the casino," Edward guessed. To Vicious, she said, "That's your cue. Get comfortable, don't make noise, and the bathroom 's over there." She pointed to a tall, narrow door on the far side of the storage bay. "Enjoy your stay at Hotel d'Bebop, and thank you for your-"

"Okay, okay," Spike sighed. He took Edward's shoulders and began to steer her towards the Bebop's main floors.

Edward couldn't help from turning and giving Vicious one last wave and a bright smile. He scowled back at her, his eyes sliding from her to the back of Spike's head.

* * *

Vicious' presence on the Bebop made Spike restless. He spent most of his time in the observation bay practicing his form. Edward knew he wasn't nervous about the situation, but he wasn't comfortable with it, either.

Edward was the one who visited Vicious, because Jet and Faye rarely noticed when she disappeared, and if they did, they didn't ask where she'd gone or what she was doing.

Edward didn't grow uncomfortable with Vicious until the man became restless. He was always sitting in the same position when she checked on him, and his gaze grew more intent every time she saw him.

Finally, she asked, "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I need an escape," he answered, meeting her eyes.

Edward was startled. "Your eyes are different colors," she mumbled. It was hard to notice, because his eyes were a colorless gray, but-

Vicious reacted violently to her words, roughly grabbing the collar of her shirt and pulling her off her feet. She hadn't noticed him stand.

"What did you say?" he snarled.

His hands were cold, and his teeth were bared. The twist of his mouth let her see his sharp incisors, and as she looked at him, she was reminded of a shark.

"When did that happen?" Edward asked softly.

"_Christ_," Vicious cursed, dropping Edward. "How the hell does he _find_ you people?"

"Who, Spike?" Edward asked. "He doesn't. I mean, I found him."

Vicious fell back to the mattress, setting his back against the wall, hard. "I'm fucking sick of this. I'm sick of these rooms, I'm sick of seeing _him_."

Slowly, Edward sat next to the man. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, and Edward could see that his palms were sweating. But a moment ago, they had been ice cold. She wondered if he was sick. After watching him frown at the wall across from them, she decided he was.

"But…why?" Edward asked. Even Faye and Jet got worried when they didn't see Spike for too long, and Edward thought that they had just as much reason to dislike Spike as anyone else.

Vicious looked to Edward again, and he gave her a horrible smile. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "He's the same as me. He's the same as me, but completely different. He's grown weak, he's living in squalor... he used to be great, and it sickens me to see him like this."

Edward _really_ didn't know what that meant.

"What the fuck is he doing hanging around a kid like you?" Vicious asked when Edward remained unresponsive.

"I'm not a kid," Edward argued. "And he doesn't. I told you, I hang around him."

"I'm sure," he snarled.

Edward left Vicious, and she was more confused than she'd been in a long time. She went to the observation bay, and sure enough, Spike was there. He punched and kicked at thin air, turning away from invisible opponents and fighting an army that wasn't there.

Edward guessed that Spike and Vicious _were_ the same.

* * *

For a few days, it was difficult to look into Vicious' eyes. The more time Edward spent with him, though, the more comfortable she was around him. That's how it had been with Spike, too, when she first joined the Bebop.

"So you've never actually met Jet?" Edward asked Vicious one day. She had gone down to the storage bay for something other than Vicious for once. Jet's computer was malfunctioning, so Edward was donating one of her more outdated electronics to contribute to its repair. She sat on the floor by Vicious' bed, taking apart an old computer.

"No," Vicious said shortly. "I once had my men run a background search on him, though, so I know he's the kind of guy I don't want to meet."

The man seemed especially decomposed today. They were almost two weeks into their journey to Earth, and it had been four days since they'd gotten a chance to sneak Vicious out of his room for a bit. On this day, was still wearing his night shirt and shorts, and his hair was mussed. Edward _had_ interrupted his sleep when she'd initially made her way into the room, but she was surprised he hadn't excused himself to the bathroom to clean up. She had rarely seen him as anything except impeccably neat. He sat on the edge of his bed, drinking some of the bottled water they'd stocked for him and fingering some of the computer's discarded parts. Occasionally, he would lift a part to his mismatched eyes and study it intently.

Edward snatched one of the parts from him before he could really get a look at it. "Watch the mercury," she warned, setting the piece into a biohazard box she had brought into the room. "And I don't think Jet would like you much, either," Edward told Vicious. "He's kind of the big authority around here. Even Spike lets him boss him around a bit."

Vicious scowled. "If he still had any backbone, Spike wouldn't let anyone boss him around."

Edward glanced up from her work for a moment. "But that's what I mean. Spike _lets_ him. I think it has to do with respect or something."

"Did you know he used to wear nothing but back?" Vicious asked. "He used to look dangerous. Now he's just a mess."

Edward grinned at him. "He won't wear a shirt if it's been ironed."

The edge of Vicious' lips curled upwards, and Edward gave a bright grin back. It was kind of fun to talk about Spike with someone who didn't complain about his laziness or the way he easily dismissed his surroundings. Of course, when Edward and Vicious spoke about his clothing, they were talking about his arrogance to an extent, but they weren't _complaining_ about it. Their conversation was light and teasing. The change was… nice.

"What are you going to do on Earth?" Edward asked as she returned to her work.

"I'll get back into the business," Vicious answered.

"There aren't any syndicates on Earth," Edward informed him. "Only little gangs. Earth doesn't have enough wealth to support a massive criminal organization. You should probably form a contingency plan."

"What would you suggest for a man whose only job experience is in murder, theft, and lying?" Vicious asked. His voice was low and mocking.

"You could open a hot-dog stand," Edward suggested. "Everyone wants hot-dogs."

"You aren't amusing," Vicious told the girl.

"Faye doesn't think so, either," Edward answered.

**Annoying Note: Sorry for the short chapter, but again: It was a good place to end. So this is basically Vicious' time on the Bebop. This chapter was fun, and I like writing Vicious in relation to Spike, because I feel like Vicious defines Spike to some extent. Still, it was kind of difficult to write conversations between Edward and Vicious, two secondary characters who were a major part of the story, but didn't really change and weren't expanded upon. Whatever, though, you know? I think I'm getting used to this. :)**

**As always, I ask that you Review! I love feedback!  
**


	9. Session 9

"The ferry goes across once every three hours," Edward told Spike and Vicious. "Spike, you'll leave with Faye and Jet first. I'll stay here with Vicious until the next ferry in six hours. Spike, you have to make sure to keep Jet and Faye busy during the time it will take me to get Vicious settled then get back to the Bebop before you."

"That will be easy," Spike grumbled. "This guy – Varlet – he's smart and violent. He's made a bit of a following from these territory wars, so he'll be surrounded by his posse and people are looking out for him. If nothing else, I guess this will be interesting."

"That's okay, because we didn't really come here for Varlet," Edward reminded.

"Right," Spike sighed, pushing off of the wall he was leaning on. "I'll get on the com when we're on the way back." With the plan in place, Spike pushed off of the wall he was leaning against, intent on getting out of the small space. He was happy to leave Edward with the responsibility of Vicious. He was ready to let Vicious again disappear, and now he had a bounty to worry about, besides.

Spike gave Vicious a small but definite nod as he left the room.

Edward stood as well, and she turned to Vicious. The man stood tall and still on the far side of the room, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. The position briefly reminded Edward of Spike.

"I'll come down and get you once they're gone," Edward promised.

Vicious gave a nod, so Edward hurried after Spike. She had to help the other Bebop members prepare for their big bounty.

Since they weren't taking their star-ships, they had to carry their supplies in packs for the ferry and the initial decent under the Earth's crust. Once they were in one of the "dens," or underground cities, the three would rent a room in a hotel. There, they would store their electronics and weapon resupply.

Jet's pack was the biggest, because he was carrying all of the electronics.

"Do you want to borrow my Tomato?" Edward asked. "You can carry it on your head."

"Thanks, Ed. But I think I'll be more comfortable with my own computer… packed carefully and safely inside the pack with our other electronics."

"Well you should have Spike or Faye carry your weapons, then," Edward suggested. "It's probably not a great idea to pack the magnetic-based artillery next to the global-magnetic compass."

"You hear that, Faye?" Spike asked. "You're carrying Jet's rifles."

"Forget it!" Faye called.

"You don't need to pack so many clothes, you know," Spike told her. "There may be a couple nice restaurants down there, but we won't be eating at them."

"Well you _better_ be packing more clothing than just a second pair of pants!" Faye countered. "We could be down there for a few days, and some of those tunnels are _primitive_! We'll be crawling around and-"

"If you're only packing clothes in that bag, then you _can_ carry the artillery-"

"I said _forget it_!"

Ed watched from the landing pad as the other three crew members started across the beach and towards the ferry. Spike was the only one who took a second look at the ship before disappearing over a hill, and Edward enthusiastically waved her arms at him before she lost sight of the group.

When she couldn't see the group any longer, Edward hurried back into the Bebop to tell Vicious he could leave her room. She didn't have to bother, though. He had left on his own. During the time she was saying good-bye to her crew-mates, he had helped himself to two fingers of Jet's favorite bourbon and was spread across Spike's favorite couch.

"Oh!" Edward said when she saw him, surprised. Then, she remembered that Faye and Jet were gone, so she cried, "Okay! Hey, Vicious, do you want a real meal before you're off? I mean, since you've mostly had granola and canned stuff for the last three weeks."

Vicious drowned the rest of his drink before saying, "You can cook?"

"I've always wanted to try!"

"Crap," he sighed. He stood from the couch and started towards the kitchen.

"_You_ can cook?" Edward asked, following him.

"Spike only ever made stake," he said, scowling. "I can't eat the stuff anymore."

Edward grinned. She loved it when Spike made steak.

"So what are you going to call yourself now?" Edward asked, sitting on top of the kitchen table.

"You don't like Vicious?" he asked, rooting around through the cupboards. He ended up grabbing a box of pasta and setting some water to boil.

"It doesn't make a very good first impression," Edward informed him. "Maybe you should name yourself Vinny."

"I won't answer to anything with a 'y' at the end," he snapped.

"Maybe just Vin, then? Vladimir? Or how about Victor? Victoria?"

Vicious scowled and began to turn to Edward. "You expect me to call myself something like Victori-" his words died away as he met her eyes and remembered who he was talking to. "No," he finally said, and he began to slice some vegetables.

"How about Daniel, then?" Edward asked.

"Stop it," he demanded.

Edward knew better than to annoy Vicious while he had a knife in his hand, so she considered the dilemma silently as she watched the man cook.

The guy really knew how to use a knife. Jet's vegetables wouldn't be bad if he fried them instead of cooking them into stews all the time. They always turned out too soft or too firm. Vicious' slices were quick and even, and Edward thought that the meal would be delicious. He should have been around for the cook-out. Faye's salad had been nice and all, but Edward thought that Vicious could have made something better.

"Spike bought me a gun," Edward found herself telling Vicious as she watched him chop some carrots.

"What kind?" Vicious asked. His voice was soft, low, and flat, like it usually was, but Edward could still tell that the guy was a little interested.

"A Ruger," Edward answered. "MK II, I think."

"A suppressor?" Vicious asked, one of his eyebrows raising.

"Yeah."

"How unlike him."

"What do you mean?" Edward asked.

"Spike likes his guns loud. He wants people to know where the shots are coming from."

"Oh." It made sense. Spike never was much for stealth. "It's not loaded or anything right now. Spike says I'm only supposed to use it as a bluff until he shows me how to use it."

"He's never going to show you how to use a gun," Vicious told Edward.

"What?" Edward asked.

Vicious turned to stare at Edward. "I said he's never going to show you how to use a gun," he appraised the girl, scanning her body and studying her hands. When he finally met Edward's gaze, she thought his eyes looked black, even though she knew they were a cold gray. "You couldn't kill anyone," Vicious finally said.

"Kill?" Edward asked. "Of course not! But that's the whole point: once I know how to use a gun, I won't accidentally kill anyone."

"Don't be so naive," Vicious demanded. "What do you think guns are for? You shoot to kill."

"But… Spike said-"

"Spike? Who do you think taught me that? Someone had to buy me my first gun, too. Come on, Edward," he snapped. "You know this. He doesn't believe in _warning shots_, and he doesn't aim to scare. You've seen him kill people before."

"No I haven't!" Edward argued. And really, she hadn't. But she knew that it happened. She had seen the crew loose plenty of bounties only because Spike was trigger-happy.

Vicious knew Edward was lying. He turned back to the vegetables, satisfied.

Edward wasn't satisfied, though.

"I know he's not a good person," she said to herself.

"Then you won't be surprised when he breaks your heart," Vicious said loudly.

* * *

"Why _do_ you call yourself Vicious?" Edward asked as she shoved the carrots into her mouth. She was right, they were perfectly cooked.

"I don't," the man answered. "Spike gave me that name."

"Why don't you just go by your actual name while you're here, then?" Edward asked.

Vicious looked up from his food, another deep scowl on his face. "I can't," he said slowly. "That name isn't real anymore."

"We could ask Spike to give you another name," Edward suggested. She made the suggestion because she knew it would make Vicious mad. She considered it pay-back for their conversation in the kitchen.

Vicious didn't react the way she predicted he would, though. He acted as though he hadn't even heard her.

"Okay," Edward finally said. "You don't like Vinny or Victoria…"

"You're right," Vicious confirmed.

"I guess you could look like a… Logan?"

Vicious' eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. Edward supposed it was as close to "making a face" as he got.

"You're right," Edward sighed. "That sounds so _human_. You should be called something like Adrian, Andrus, Damian, Lucifer or-or, I don't know, Gunn-"

Again, Vicious made a face to show his disgust. Edward decided to interpret this displeasure not at being associated with the devil, but at being associated with a gun when he was _obviously_ better with knives.

"Okay, how about Cutter, then?" Edward asked. "Andrus Cutter, Adrian Cutter, Lucifer Cutter-"

"Let's just go with Cutter for now," Vicious interrupted, his expression growing more dangerous.

"Okay," Edward agreed easily.

* * *

The ferry turned out to be a submarine which submerged after they'd been in it for only ten minuets.

"Just like Cyberspace," Edward mumbled as she watched some fish pass by her window. At least, she thought they were fish. The water was murky from pollution, and she wasn't sure if life forms still survived in the seas.

Across from her, Vicious didn't react to Edward's words.

"Why do you and Spike hate each other so much?" Edward finally brought herself to ask. The question had been building in her since she'd first seen Spike and Vicious meet eyes. It sat in the back of her throat, and she felt like she'd already gagged on it several times.

"You could stay on Earth with me, you know," Vicious answered. "You came from this place, didn't you? Wouldn't you like to live here again?"

"I guess," Edward answered slowly. "I mean, I keep thinking about that, and I've left before, but then I always somehow find my way back to the Bebop."

"Annoying, isn't it?" Vicious asked. He didn't blink, he didn't move.

"You don't really want me to stay here with you, though, do you?"

"Of course I do," Vicious said, as if it were a simple, obvious fact.

"Why?"

"Because I want to take something from him just once. I want him to know how that absence feels."

Edward grinned. "You're going about it the wrong way. You should take his _Swordfish_, or his Jericho or something. He won't miss me."

"I'm sure he would," Vicious argued. "And what would I do with that stupid ship or a gun?"

"What would you do with _me_?" Edward asked.

"I'd do plenty," he answered.

* * *

The den-city wasn't large. At least, it wasn't by den-city standards. It consisted of eight square city blocks, and the ten-story buildings helped support the cavern's ceiling.

Edward was quick to find Vicious an apartment. It was only on a second floor, and it was in one of the edge buildings, which meant it was more susceptible to cave-ins and leaks.

"It will do until you get yourself settled and established," Edward told Vicious as he scowled around the small, sparsely furnished apartment. It had no windows, but then what would there be to look at if there were?

Vicious' new land-lady had left them to mosey around the apartment while she retrieved the lease documents.

"I'm going to need proof of identity," Vicious told Edward, his tone very business-like. Edward wondered if he spoke to _all_ of his business partners with such directness. If not, he should; his flat, even tone offered on room for argument.

"I've already got some for you here," Edward answered, pulling the papers and identity cards from her bag.

Vicious looked over them with a scowl. "They're missing most of the information. They don't even have a _name_ on them."

"That's why I brought this!" Edward declared, reaching into her bag and pulling out a porta-lectric-printer.

Vicious cursed. "Didn't you think this through? These are _obviously_ falsified documents-"

"Relax," Edward demanded. "_No one_ here has real papers. I _told_ you, this is sector seventy-two. There's no real law. The only time people worry is when someone doesn't have any papers at all."

Edward took the papers from Vicious and stuffed them back into her bag along with the porta-lectric-printer. She'd just replaced the bag on her shoulder when the apartment's door opened and the land-lady hobbled back into the room. The woman was short, overweight, and ugly, and she limped on her left knee. However, she had a cheery attitude and a bright smile, and Edward immediately liked her.

"Here they are!" the woman proudly declared, waving a pile of disorderly pages over her head as she made her way into the room. "You still want to stay, right? You haven't changed your mind?"

"Of course not!" Edward answered. "It'll be fine."

"Good! Good! Here you go, Mr…. Um…" the woman squinted questioningly at Vicious.

"My name is Cutter," Vicious told her.

"Oh! Um… Lovely. Cutter, what, exactly?"

"His first name is Lucif-!"

Vicious put his hand on the back of Edward's neck and gripped her skin tightly to silence her. "It's Luce," he told the woman. "Luce Cutter."

Edward tried not to laugh. It sounded like Loose Cutter.

Then, however, the cold of Vicious' hand began to seep into her neck, and she shivered.

"Oh! And you, dear?" the land-lady asked, turning to the girl.

"I'm Edward!"

"People sure are giving their children interesting names nowadays," the woman told the pair, the smile returning to her face. "And you two _are_ married, aren't you? We may have a little problem if not-"

Edward's eye's widened. Married to _Vicious_?

"No," Vicious answered easily. "And she won't be living here. It will only be me in the apartment."

"Fantastic!" the woman declared. "Now why don't we get started on these papers and-"

"Is that you, Mrs. Yortivich?" a man called from the hallway, then he let himself into the room without knocking. "Mrs. Yourtivich, that Driblin kid is pounding against the outer wall again, and I think this whole place is going to cave in!"

"Evan, the walls were reinforced just a month ago, and that _toddler _isn't going to damaged the braces-"

"But Mrs. _Yourtivitch_-" the man whined.

"Excused me for a moment," the land-lady told Vicious and Edward as she pushed the man into the hallway. She closed the door behind herself, and they could hear the two voices fading as she escorted him down the hall.

"Perfect distraction!" Edward declared. "Time to create your identity, Mr. Luce Cutter!"

Vicious sneered. "You almost told her _Lucifer_."

"She had the right to know that she was renting an apartment to the devil," Edward told him as she pulled out her equipment and began to print Vicious' new information onto the multiple cards. Edward finished her project just as the land-lady made her way back into the apartment.

Edward watched over the procedure, glad that Vicious knew what he was supposed to do to properly fill out the lease forms. Edward wondered if she would see documents like those ever again.

After Vicious had been given the key to the apartment, Edward said good-bye to the man. "It was a fun adventure!" she declared as she started towards the door.

Vicious caught Edward's wrist. "You could still stay," he told her. He pulled her back into the apartment a little.

For a moment, Edward considered the option. She _seriously_ considered it. After all, Earth was familiar. To an extent, it was _easy_. It wasn't as easy as staying on the Bebop, but the planet's disorganization and chaos was familiar, and familiar was always easy. Edward had a feeling that staying with Vicious would be easy, too. Unlike Spike, he already wanted her around. To an extent, she'd get what she wanted-

But then, Edward remembered. She remembered that she _wanted Spike_, when she'd never really wanted anything before.

"I don't think I can stay," she told Vicious.

He slowly let go of her wrist. She used her newly free hand to give him a wave good-bye. "See you around, Lucifer. Be sure to warn me if we're ever in the same part of the universe!"

"Of course," Vicious answered.

* * *

The Bebop crew plus one appeared back at the ship four days latter.

"You did it!" Edward cried when she saw the man who was stumbling behind Jet, his hands cuffed. "You got him-"

"This isn't Hutch Varlet," Spike snarled. "The he and his friends were untouchable!"

"What?" Edward asked. "You couldn't find Hutch?"

"Oh, no, the guy was easy to find! There were fucking signs and banners pointing the way," Faye raged.

"He's wanted on three different planets and a dozen different satellites for everything from running over some guy's dog to gunning down a dozen police officers. There's almost one hundred million woolongs on his head, but we get here and find out the guy's a fucking _war hero_," Spike told Edward.

"He's at the head of these territory wars around here. The people love him, and there was an entire army keeping us from him," Jet sighed, dejected. "All that _work_…"

"Then who's this guy?" Edward asked, motioning to the wounded and incoherent man who Jet had thrown to the Bebop's deck.

"He's our consolation prize," Faye snarled. "_Thanks for playing, folks_!"

Edward looked to Spike, who said, "He's only worth two hundred thousand."

_Well damn_.

Jet picked the man back up by his collar and began to drag him inside. Faye followed him, growling to herself about food and bathing and burning clothes. Edward fell behind with Spike.

"I got to give Vicious a new name," she told the man. "He's now called Luce, short for Lucifer."

That managed to bring a curl to Spike's lips. "You gave him hell, right?"

"Not as much as I could have," Edward answered. "But his new land-lady will make up for all the opportunities I missed."

Spike fished out a cigarette as he walked. "That bounty was miserable," he told Edward. "I don't know why you're in such a hurry to be included in this shit."

"I haven't hurried," Edward told him. "I've been here for almost five years, you know."

Spike chuckled. "That's right. I keep forgetting that you've gotten old."

"_Me_?" Edward scoffed. "Jet's the one loosing all his hair!"

"_What was that, Ed_?" Jet roared from inside the Bebop.

**Annoying Note: And thus, the Vicious saga ends. He is again absent from the Bebop crew's life, so Edward and Spike can move on to greater, more amazing adventures... for now. I think he's served his purpose for this portion of the story. **

**Review, please!  
**


	10. Session 10

**A/N: This chapter is an interlude, of sorts – It just represents a few quiet weeks on the Bebop and the passage of time before their adventure kick starts again in the next chapter.**

"Hey," Jet mumbled, jabbing Edward in the side with his finger.

"Hum?" Edward asked absently. She was careful to stay still and focused as she drifted through cyberspace, determined not to jerk away from the complicated process of surfing.

"Hey, I need a favor."

"What kind?" Edward asked.

"Get Faye out of here for the day."

Edward should have seen this coming. Spike and Jet had been up late the evening before, drinking. Faye was late at the casino, so Jet had broken out his favorite tequila. The two men had begun reminiscing about old bounties, and they'd ended up getting excited and reenacting their favorite fights. Edward decided that Jet's staggering and motioning was amusing, but Spike's attack on Faye's favorite chair was a little too exact and violent for someone who had helped drown the better part of a bottle of tequila.

Of course, the next afternoon, Spike was still asleep, and Jet had a piercing headache. Faye was upset about her chair.

Edward was about to tell Jet no. She had found some juicy new encryptions hidden inside one of the private gate corporations, so she'd been having a fun time of that. However, at that moment, Faye's voice raised an octave too high even for Edward, and Jet flinched horribly.

"Fine, but you owe me," Edward informed Jet as she shut down her program and braided the goggle's UBS cord into her hair.

"Yeah, yeah I do," Jet agreed easily with a relieved sigh.

"Hey, Faye!" Edward called as she stood. "I want a new dress!" she declared.

Faye gave a dramatic sigh as she found her way into the common area to talk with Edward. "I don't feel like shopping today, Ed."

"But I wanted to talk about girl stuff," Edward pouted.

"Girl stuff, huh?" Faye asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Sure," Edward answered with a wide grin. "Girl stuff."

"Fine," Faye finally agreed. "You're right, anyways; you need another dress, especially since it's the only clothing that can make you look like a girl."

Edward's suspicions were confirmed. "You're the one who's been throwing my shorts away," she accused as she followed Faye to the hanger.

"They're getting too small for you, anyways," Faye drawled, cocking her chin as she added, "You're finally starting to grow some hips."

Edward looked down at herself, then she decided that the older woman was lying.

Despite Faye's initial reluctance to go shopping, she changed her tune when they passed the first window display she liked, and she eagerly pulled Edward into the store. Edward liked these moments, not because she liked stores or shopping, but because it was just her and Faye. They stood together in one of the larger stalls, away from the attention of other women, store clerks, and most importantly, men. They took turns standing in front of the mirror while discussing the clothing they tried. Edward zipped Faye's dress for her, and Faye held Edward's long hair away from her back as they tried to figure out what-the-hell all of those straps were for.

"So what's this girl stuff you want to talk about?" Faye asked while they were looking through some shoes.

Edward shrugged. She hadn't really thought the excuse through when she'd throw it at Faye as a distraction. At the same time, though, she didn't think there was much to consider. "I don't know. Boys, I guess."

"Boys?" Faye laughed as she picked some tall heels from the shelves. "Where have you met any boys?"

Edward didn't exactly want to flaunt the fact that she now spent most of her time thinking about Spike, so she said, "That's just the thing. I haven't met any. I mean… I have, but they don't seem interesting."

Faye gave a low laugh. "That's my problem exactly, Edward. Men are pigs. They aren't good enough."

"I guess," Edward said doubtfully.

"You guess?" Faye asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I've been thinking," Edward said slowly. "When you told me about meeting good men… You said nothing good ever lasts…"

"Because it doesn't," Faye said shortly. She scowled when she remembered the conversation. She didn't like being reminded of the injustices of life, and married men were about as unjust as things got.

"Well what if you're not looking for perfection?" Edward asked. "I mean, what if you find something that isn't perfect, but… it _seems_ perfect. Like, it doesn't need to be perfect for you to like it, and so it's not good, but… it's not bad, either."

"Edward, what are you talking about?" Faye sighed as she replaced the heels on the shelf. They were too expensive, even for her standards.

"I don't know," Edward answered with a long sigh of her own.

She was drawn from her sudden melancholy when Faye threw an arm over her shoulder. "Cheer up, kid," Faye demanded. "I don't know if you're looking for perfection or imperfection or what, but you've got plenty of time to find it, and you'll have plenty of chances, especially if you buy that nice blue dress from the front of the store."

Edward couldn't help but grin at Faye's easy dismissal as the conversation turned back to fashion.

* * *

"You're lucky," Spike said with a grin.

"Really?" Edward asked.

"Sure. You got a strait flush on your first hand," he explained. He nimbly plucked cards from Edward's hands and rearranged them. "There. A strait flush. This is the second best hand you can get. Then, there's four of a kind, a flush, and a full house."

"That's it?" Edward asked.

"There are a few others, but these are the big hands," he told her.

Honestly, Edward already knew the basics of poker. She'd stumbled across enough cyber sites to have some experience with the game. However, feigning inexperience was a good reason to sit close – very close – to Spike for a while. They were already hip-to-hip and shoulder-to-shoulder, but Edward especially liked it when he had to reach across her to get to her hand and rearrange her cards. She was hyper aware of every tilt of his chin, every shifting movement of his shoulders and legs. When he spoke, she could smell the tobacco on his breath and when he exhaled, the long bangs resting against her cheek fluttered.

"That's the easy stuff, though," Spike continued, "and it's mostly luck. The real challenge is reading the other players."

"That's why you're so good?" Edward asked.

"Partially," he laughed. "I can't really help but count cards."

"Oh-ho," Edward laughed. She knew how taboo counting cards was.

"But I'm not teaching you to cheat," Spike finished. "You're learning the good old fashioned way to play."

"The old fashioned way?" Edward asked.

Spike nodded. "First, always assume that everyone is lying. Then, understand their weaknesses."

"What's Jet's weakness?" Edwards asked.

"His left eye – the eye with the patch – it twitches just the tiniest bit when he has a good hand. I'm pretty sure the movement is uncontrollable. He also does it whenever he sees a good bounty or a dirty magazine," Spike said with another teasing grin.

"What's Faye's weakness, then?" Edward pressed.

"Faye's weakness _is_ lying. She does it as naturally as Jet when his eye twitches. She's also got a weakness for stereotypes. If someone at the table looks even mildly predictable, she digs into them."

"No wonder she's such a bitch to Jet!" Edward laughed.

Spike gave his own little chuckle. He'd never considered the idea before. He'd always assumed that Faye could smell the cop in Jet, and she naturally reacted to the threat.

"So the point of this game is to get a good hand and understand your opponents?" Edward asked.

"Exactly. And if you know them well enough, you don't even need a good hand. I once made almost a million woolongs on a crap hand by convincing everyone else to fold."

"Really?" Edward asked. "Back before Faye and I came to the Bebop?"

"Before _I_ came to the Bebop, Ed," Spike said, shaking his head.

Edward didn't need to know about anybody's time before the Bebop, so she quickly changed the subject. "But you won't teach me to count cards?" she asked with a small pout. After all, _everyone_ needed easy money every now and then.

Spike shook his head. "There's nothing fun to the game after you learn how to count it. Then, all that's left is playing people for their bluffs. Besides, I don't want you getting into the same kind of trouble that Faye's in."

"Oh, yeah," Edward said thoughtfully. She had the feeling that she could throw the casinos off her trail easier than Faye could, but she still didn't want to have that kind of trouble with anyone. Edward sometimes saw the loan officers when they came after Faye, and they didn't seem like nice people.

"So how do you bluff?" Edward asked.

"You have to be cool," Spike answered. "Cool and calm. Never change your attitude, never change your face."

Edward laughed at the idea. Changing was all she'd been doing, lately.

"Most importantly, though, you have to believe the bluff, Edward. No matter how tall the lie, you have to believe it," Spike told her.

"So I need to be cool, calm, and I have to believe it," Edward finally repeated.

When Spike proudly nodded, Edward turned towards the kitchen, where Jet and Faye were trying to find some food. "Hey Jet!" Edward called. "Want to play some poker?"

"Not now, Ed," Jet answered, his voice gruff. "We're looking for some dinner."

"How about looser takes the winner out?" Edward challenged.

"You're on!" Jet declared with a wide grin as he turned an about face and headed for the living area. He was hungry, and he wasn't adverse to the idea of taking advantage of a little girl who'd never played the game before.

Really, Jet should have known better when he saw Spike sitting next to the damn kid.

* * *

Although Jet was willing to take advantage of Edward, she didn't return the favor. Sure, she had every right to demand a nice meal at a four star hotel, but she settled for a small burger joint which hovered in the atmosphere just outside one of the gates.

When they sat down at a table, Jet eyed Edward speculatively. She'd been blowing horns about growing up and partaking in some responsibility around the Bebop, but Jet hadn't really taken her seriously. However, things had changed. Edward seemed taller than she had just a little while ago, and while she still had bare feet and gangly limbs, he could see the slight curve to her waist, accentuated by the simple purple dress she wore. Her face was still a little round with youth, but the light plump of her lips and the edge of awareness in her eye hinted at her maturity.

"How long until your birthday?" Jet asked after they'd ordered their drinks.

"Two months!" Edward declared.

Eighteen, Jet thought. She'd come to the Bebop when she was only thirteen. She'd lived with them for five years. How the hell was she so damn beautiful? By all rights, the kid should have been horribly traumatized by half of what went on at the Bebop. He remembered the time a syndicate sent men after the Bebop when Faye turned one of their men over to the police. Three lackeys had managed to get on bored the ship, and they were out for blood. Edward was the first one they found, and she was now only alive because Spike managed to distract them from the girl. Another time, the Bebop had collided with the ship they were chasing, and Jet had been seriously injured. Edward has been the only person on hand to help him, and she'd had to help staunch the bleeding and fix him up a bit. Kids weren't supposed to help with stuff like that. Kids weren't supposed to know how to splint broken arms! But there she was, sitting across from Jet looking young and alive and beautiful.

Jet wondered what it would have been like to have a daughter. He didn't fool himself into believing any girl of his would be as resilient at Edward, but he imagined that she would be able to doll out a few good punches. There had been a scare once, with Elisa. They would have had a great looking kid. Heck, Jet thought he could have a good looking kid with _anyone_.

_It's not too late for me_, Jet thought to himself. _I'm not that old. I could still settle_. _I could still meet a woman…_

But then, the waiter came back to the table with their drinks and Jet watched as the young man gave a brilliant smile, ready to take their orders. There was an extra piece of fruit in Edward's drink, and the young man turned to take her order first, the bright smile still plastered across his face.

A surge of gentle anger rose in Jet, and he suddenly felt overprotective. _On second thought, maybe a son would be better_.

After dinner, Jet took Edward out for desert. As they ate, he asked, "Are you sticking around the Bebop for good?"

"Yeah," Edward said. She didn't so much as pause to think before answering. "Where else would I go?"

"Back to Earth," Jet answered immediately. "Mars. School."

"School? Really? What would I do at a place like that?"

"Get a real job, settle down in a good life, away from outer space and bounty hunting," Jet suggested. He tried to picture Edward following the path he suggested, and instead pictured a burning college campus and a swarm of ISSP patrollers pursuing a red-headed suspect who would latter claim to have done it because she was bored.

"I'm a hacker," Edward told him with a grin. "I don't need to go to college to get a paper degree."

"Right," Jet said with his own grin. It occurred to him that even though he was an ex-cop, he sure let that girl get away with a lot of illegal activities.

When he returned to the Bebop, Jet entered the public ISSP database, where they kept a list of bounties, and he found that faceless, ageless, nearly-nameless Radical Edward was worth 150 million woolongs.

That evening was the first time that Jet checked on Edward before he went to bed, just to make sure that she hadn't somehow been kidnapped while his back was turned.

**Annoying Note - Tada! A new chapter! I hope you enjoyed it. Again, it wasn't a big chapter, but I thought there was a lot of little stuff to keep an eye out after. I hope you're all enjoying the story! Review, please!**


	11. Session 11

**A/N- I guess I consider this chapter the beginning of the real action of this story, so read and enjoy!**

The gravity was weak that day, and as she floated high above the couch, Edward decided that she liked the change of perspective.

"Here we go!" Edward sang. "Mr. Billy Hypner! Wanted for murder and theft!"

"That's it?" Jet asked.

"He murdered the board of directors and stole a few hundred million woolongs from the company," Edward corrected. "The police have a reward on him, but family of the deceased have added some cash to the pot, as well."

"Good," Jet said. "Go find Faye and Spike. Tell them we've got a job." The man reached into the air, grabbed Edward's ankle, and he pulled her towards the floor. The Bebop's weak gravity held her down, but just barely. She easily leapt from the floor and over the metal railing of the tall metal platform which stood on the far side of the living area.

Edward found Faye in the bathroom, taking a soak in the tub.

"Job!" Edward called.

"Don't you ever knock?" Faye sighed, but she otherwise didn't move.

"It's a big one!" Edward sang. She pushed herself into the bathroom, snatched a great handful of bubbles from the tub, and she set them in the air. They hung suspended in anti-gravity until they popped.

"Let the boys do it," Faye mumbled. "I'm relaxing here, Ed."

Edward recognized that Faye was in one of her moods. She was probably thinking about all the things she couldn't remember. Faye would snap out of it sooner or latter, and she'd wander into the common area to distract herself. Jet could tell her about the bounty then.

Edward left Faye to her bath and went to search for Spike. He was in the observation bay. He'd finished practicing his form and he now stood next to the great windows, a tumbler of whisky in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth. The room was dark, so he was a silhouette against the universe.

When Spike heard the door slide closed behind her, he turned and greeted Edward.

"Finished?" she asked, lightly pushing off the floor and towards him.

"Yeah, a minuet ago," Spike told her.

Edward watched a drop of sweat roll down his back between his collar bones.

"Do you like to fight?" Edward asked.

"Of course," Spike answered with a crooked grin. "There's something satisfying about crushing a man's nose under your fist. Even It isn't even too bad when you have to take a couple hits."

When Spike took the cigarette from his mouth, he held it out to Edward. She happily took it and stuck it into her mouth as she settled on the floor next to Spike's feet, her back against the icy bay windows.

"You want to hit a bar tonight?" Spike asked. "We can fly over to the Century strip."

"Near the asteroid belt?" Edward asked. "Sure, okay."

After Spike had showered and Edward had properly dressed for an outing, the duo started towards the hanger. As they passed by the common area, Spike told Jet, "We're going out."

Jet only grunted in response as he continued his work on the computer. By the time the comment registered in his mind, the two had already taken their jackets and continued towards the hanger. Jet only saw their backs for a moment before they disappeared into the circular hall. He blinked at the empty common area for a moment before returning to his work, a small crease now settled between his eyes.

Once they arrived at the Century Strip, Spike was quick to find a bar with a few pool tables in the back. He handed Edward some money so she could join a game, then went to the bar for a drink.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around bars?" one of the men asked as she threw her money on the pile and joined the game.

"Of course not!" Edward answered, although she didn't know if that was true.

"I think you are," the man told her. The declaration was prompt, and somewhat strange, but he didn't act on his belief that Edward was too young for the bar, and instead he took his turn. When he straitened and backed away from the table, he said, "You're one of those young kids, aren't you?"

Edward didn't think she was especially young. She was almost 18, after all. When she turned 18, she'd be old enough to legally do half the things she did already, so didn't that actually make her kind of old? It certainly did by her logic.

"I'm Charley," the man suddenly stated, holding a large, square hand to Edward.

"I'm Edward," she told him as she took his hand and returned his greeting.

When Edward told people her name, they usually gave her a funny look which Edward learned to be called disbelief (a strange concept to her), or they asked her to repeat herself. Charley only gave a simple, heavy nod before looking back to the game.

"You hold your cue wrong," Charley informed Edward after she had taken a turn. "And you didn't put the tie in your hair tight enough. It's about to fall out."

Edward felt the braid behind her back, and sure enough, the band was slipping from her hair. She quickly caught it and placed it more securely in her hair.

"Thanks!" she told Charley with a smile. "Faye would cook me if I lost another one of her scrunchies." Edward wondered if the expression "cook" was appropriate, since Faye certainly wouldn't eat her _after_ she had been cooked.

"Is Faye the dark haired girl?" Charley asked.

"Yeah," Edward nodded. "And she doesn't like it when I borrow her hair things. I – Wait. You know Faye?"

"I've seen you with her before," Charley told her. "In a mall outside of the Ganymede gate, I think."

"Oh," Edward said, blinking. Then, she said, "Wow! You recognize me?"

"Of course," he answered. "You're not easy to forget."

As he spoke, he looked from Edward's bare feet to her cat-like gold eyes then to her wild red hair. Red hair was _very_ rare, even more so than blond, and Edward's seemed especially wild and vibrant. No, she wasn't a girl to be missed or forgotten.

The game was fun. Edward's technique was still shaky and she didn't know the rules, but the bar's patrons were fairly laid back and even after Edward lost her money, they let her play around the tables.

Edward kept an eye on Spike, who struck up easy, meaningless conversations with the people who sat around him as Edward partook in her own strange conversation with Charley.

Charley was tall, dark, and quiet. He didn't look at Edward as he spoke to her, instead keeping his eyes on the pool. He spoke very directly. He mostly made statements instead of asking questions, and when he did ask questions, it didn't always seem like he wanted Edward to answer them. He had a very abrupt way of speaking which seemed random and sometimes out of turn, but Edward decided she liked it.

Charley invited Edward to go outside for a cigarette. Edward thought this was strange since they were aloud to smoke in the bar, but someone had just paid the music maker to play a particularly ear-splitting song and Edward jumped at the excuse to get away from the senseless noise.

Charley walked to stand under a lamp post, and Edward sat on the curb next to him as he lit her cigarette, then his own.

"So why do you hang around Spike Spiegel?" Charley suddenly asked.

Edward looked up at Charley, but his eyes were fixed on the closed restaurant across the street.

"You know Spike?" Edward asked.

"Everyone knows Spike," he answered shortly. "And you're hanging out with him. For what?"

"Well … I live with him," Edward answered. "What do you-"

Charley suddenly reached down, roughly grabbed the back of Edward's neck, and he threw her into the street. A moment latter, gunshots rang threw the bar and into the streets and buildings around it.

Edward covered her head with her arms even as she was identifying the different guns sounding off. There was a semi-automatic, she heard a couple cheep pistols, someone else had a _machine gun_ – but there. Even among the other shots, Edward recognized Spike's Jericho.

Then, the machine gun was gone, Edward no longer heard the pistols, and then Spike was jumping through a broken window and into the street.

"Ed!" he called. "Edwar-" when he spotted her in the street, Spike rushed forward and roughly grabbed her arm, pulling her off the ground. "-crawling with syndicate goons," he was saying as he urged Edward to run. "Go!" he commanded as a few gunmen followed Spike into the street.

"No, this way!" Charley demanded as he pushed past Spike and into an alley.

Spike knew they were in a tight spot. The Century Strip was relatively small – only about 20 square blocks. It would be difficult to outrun the men and it would be even more so after they called for reinforcements. The only way he saw of getting out unharmed would be to make it to his mono-racer or disappear in the underground circuitry of the space port, which could lead to a whole other mess of navigating the wires and engine, then getting back _out_ and possibly running into the syndicate again.

Therefore, he chose option number three and followed the stranger.

They only ducked around two corners before the man rushed into an unlocked garage and led them into an apartment complex.

The trio relaxed once they were in the elevator and on their way to the eighth floor, where Charley had an apartment.

"What did you do?" Edward asked Spike.

A smile curled at Spike's lips. He recognized that Edward was learning quickly; when things went wrong, it was usually Spike's fault. Faye and Jet were always quick to point fingers at him when guns went off, and now Edward was catching on, as well.

"This time, I only choose the wrong bar," he told Edward. "That place was a hangout for a local syndicate." Spike turned his suddenly sharp eyes to Charley. "So what were you doing there?"

"Infiltration," Charley answered, raising his dark eyes to meet the other man's. His head lowered and he rounded his shoulders, as if expecting a blow. "I'm a chimney sweep."

Spike's spine straitened and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Despite his occupied hands, Edward knew and recognized this stance. Like Charley, Spike was preparing for a fight.

"What's a chimney?" Edward asked. As a homeless child without having ever lived in a house, Edward didn't know much about architecture or indoor fires. Maybe she had seen the remnants of a chimney when she slept in an old, dilapidated building, but there was no one around to tell her that a chimney was what she saw.

Spike had grown up on Mars, though. He had visited many houses and apartments which had chimneys. However, he'd also played the syndicate game, so he knew that a chimney sweeper didn't have anything to do with cleaning soot. "Chimneys are syndicate bank accounts, designed to funnel and hide money," he told Edward, his eyes still on Charley. "A _chimney sweeper_ is someone who _steals_ the money from these accounts and therefore from the syndicates."

Edward blinked. She knew _exactly_ what Spike was talking about. She had run across the money webs countless times while floating in cyberspace. The webs were intricate, complex, and often a beautiful mess. If they'd been anything interesting, Edward would have had a fun time pulling the webs apart whenever she came across them, but since they were only made of money and not information, she didn't waist her time.

Spike was eyeing Charley. "What the fuck are you doing talking to civilians? What are you doing talking with _kids_?"

"Why not?" Charley asked. "I knew who you were the second you walked into the bar. _Everyone_ did. I knew how this night would end."

Spike's eyes flickered to Edward. She had been the first thing he'd thought of when the gunfire started. When he hadn't seen her at the pool tables, a horribly crystal clear memory flickered across his eyes, and his heart had nearly stopped. He knew what happened to women when low-level syndicate thugs got a hold of them. He preferred that the kid get shot up. Therefore, he'd been relieved to find her in the street, outside the bar and ducking under the stray bullets whizzing out of the broken windows. Spike had calmed a little – only a little – when he realized that Charley had made sure she was outside when the fight began.

Spike knew that he couldn't completely relax near the chimney sweeper, though.

"How many syndicates have you knocked over?" Spike asked. Chimney sweepers usually had to work for five or six years to infiltrate the syndicates, earn respect and trust, and then come up with a fool proof plan to take the money and run without being caught or killed. The work was worth it, though, if the thief didn't die while trying to rise through the ranks. If everything went well, the sweeper could make it out with an ass-load of money, and the syndicates couldn't call the police since it was stolen money the sweeper was stealing. The syndicates could only send their own men after the sweeper, and by that time the thief knew enough about the organization to predict and counteract their attacks. Still, chimney sweeping was a very, _very_ dangerous trade, and after a sweeper had been through a couple syndicates, they began collecting collateral enemies.

"I have plenty of experience," Charley finally answered.

Spike believed him. Charley seemed like the kind of man who would be good at quickly rising through the ranks of a syndicate and then taking care of himself after he had ripped the organization apart. Spike decided it was the man's eyes and the way he held his chin which made him powerful.

And that made Charley all the more dangerous to be around. He was a force to be reckoned with in himself, but the more syndicates he'd ripped off, the more people would be after him. Even standing in an elevator with the man was a risk.

However, Spike recognized that Charley had helped them out of a tight situation of Spike's creation, and Edward seemed to get along with the man… Spike had seen the two talking. He'd recognized the bright, toothy smile she only gave people who she thought were interesting.

"How do you follow those webs without a computer?" Edward asked aloud.

Neither man understood what they young girl was talking about. Spike sighed, but Charley didn't seem perturbed by Edward's sudden and out-of-place question. In that moment, Spike understood how the two nearly-strangers had been so immediately drawn to each other.

* * *

"It's blown," Charley finally finished with a sigh, pushing the computer away from himself and giving the monitor a deep scowl.

"How long have you been working for the syndicate?" Edward asked, pulling at his computer so she could peer at his work.

"Only six months," Charley answered, his eyes unwavering as he watched Edward roam through the files.

"How long would it take?"

"A small fry organization like this only takes a year or two. It's the large syndicates which are difficult."

"Huh," Edward hummed as she stared at the screen. She recognized the lines of numbers and codes. She'd often seen it from a different vantage point inside cyberspace. "You know, it's a waste to let half a year of work fall apart. I can have this fixed up and drained in an hour!"

"Drained?" Charley asked as one eyebrow rose in interest, but his scowl remained unchanged.

"Drained of every last penny!" Edward promised, her fingers already picking at the web. As Charley had expressed, the syndicate was small, and so was their web. Whenever she pulled at a string, several were knocked loose. Soon, a path was cleared, and Edward only had to encode a mask of security over the bank account so the syndicate couldn't trace the money to Charley.

"Tell me what you're doing," Charley demanded as he peered over Edward's shoulder.

"I'm filling out a fake business license for a transporting business on Io," Edward answered.

"Nothing can be transported across Io," Charlie informed her.

"That's why you get so much money for it," Edward answered. "_If_ the syndicate traces the money to this account, their attempt to access the paperwork to see who owns and runs the business is a clear early warning to move the money."

"I need this level of security on several other accounts, as well," Charley briskly told her, his sudden change of attitude reminding her of Jet when he was trying to negotiate the price for Bebop part.

"If you have several accounts, why are you robbing these little guys?"

"It keeps me in shape for the long jobs. Everyone needs to practice their art."

Edward understood that logic well. Only a small fraction of her time in cyberspace was spent doing anything productive. But cyberspace was what she did so it was where she spent her time.

Spike reentered the apartment from the hallway. "Pick up, Edward," he demanded. "We've got a chance."

Edward hurried to stand and follow Spike from the apartment. To Charley, she said, "Thanks for helping us get away from the syndicate. I'll finish the job once we're safe." Her words were rushed as she grabbed her jacket and followed after Spike.

The escape was fun, like many of the adventurous escapes Edward had experienced before. Maybe it was because there wasn't any _real _danger. No one was pointing guns at them or chasing them. They just had to get away from the strip before someone saw them out of the corner of their eye and sounded an alarm. Or maybe it was because the escape was easy, familiar. Spike had told her things were easier when they were familiar, and the two were running like she'd often run from the police on Earth. Or maybe it was fun because as they grew closer to Spike's monoracer, the man grabbed her hand, urging her to run faster so they could make a safe escape.

Whatever it was, Edward liked running with Spike.

**Annoying Note: There you have it! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and either way, REVIEW!**


	12. Session 12

**A/N- This is a big chapter folks, so pay attention! **

It wasn't difficult to find Billy Hypner, the Bebop's latest bounty. The man, previously a successful high rate investment banker, had somehow just… snapped one day. After killing the executives of the business he worked for, he had stolen millions and run, leaving a noticeable trail of destruction behind him. Every satellite they stopped at, every planet, every town had stories of injured citizens and destroyed property. As the weeks passed and Billy became madder and more unpredictable, the authorities sent out a statement declaring that Hypner was far too dangerous to be left on the streets, and the stipulation "dead or alive" was tacked on to the bounty.

This pleased Spike, who was now fully healed from his last violent bounty and ready for some excitement. In the bounty system's history, there were only a handful of times when full bounty was promised even if the fugitive was delivered dead. For Spike, the bounty offered excitement and a dangerous chase. For Jet, it offered an excuse to make the girls stay out of the way.

"Ed, this is a big bounty," Jet said as he scowled at some recent police reports which had been sent by Bob. "I'm sure you'll be a great bounty hunter, but you're not ready for this guy. And Faye-"

"Stay with Edward and stay out of this guy's way. Got it," Faye agreed easily. She wasn't about to tell Jet, but the evening before, she'd glanced at Jet's computer and saw he had an e-mail from Bob about the bounty. Curious and sure she'd hear the information anyways, she'd opened the e-mail and read every detail of exactly what Bobby Hypner did to women when he got his hands on them. Faye thought she was good with a gun, but the reports she'd heard on Hypner suggested he was as impervious to bullets as Spike was. She wasn't interested in getting in Hypner's way, and she _especially_ wasn't interested in Edward getting in his way.

Jet was surprised by Faye's easy agreement, but happily wrote it off as laziness. He was relived to be avoiding a fight. For the past few days he had been on edge, and the continuing reports of violence combined with Spike's nonchalant whistling were only aggravating him. Faye's acquiescence was one less thing for him to worry about.

The Bebop caught up with Hypner beyond Mercury. They learned that he had picked up some friends while he was at a space port outside of Mars, and the three were on a drinking binge. Hypner was still rolling around in stolen money, and he had bought out the penthouse of a casino-resort which revolved close to the sun.

"He's going by the name Benny," Edward told Jet and Spike as she typed at her computer. "He's also had a little reconstruction done to his face – only around his forehead and cheekbones, but the difference is drastic. You'll recognize him by his smile. You can tell he's a mean guy."

Faye threw herself onto the hotel bed beside Edward and scowled at the man's picture. "Ugh. That's the devil's smile if I ever saw it. Even Vicious didn't look at me like-"

Faye blinked hard when she heard the name leave her mouth. Across the room, Jet paused in packing his artillery, and the room felt suddenly stilled. Edward continued typing simply to fill the silence.

"Vicious never looked like that because he wasn't crazy. A little mad, sure, but never crazy," Spike finally said as he slid his long black coat over his shoulder.

Faye's wide eyes met Jet's, and Edward felt sorry for them. After all, she and Spike had done well at covering up any of their interactions with the supposedly dead man. The two couldn't know that Vicious and Spike had again met.

Once Spike and Jet were loaded with artillery, Edward stood from her place sitting on the hotel's bed so that she could help Spike and Jet with their electrical equipment and communicators.

"See? They go on the back of your ears, instead of inside them, and there are no wires attached!" Edward said excitedly. She'd bought the communication devices a while ago after getting her first cut in a bounty, and she was ready to see the electronics in play.

Edward was especially excited for the excuse to run her hands through Spike's hair. She pulled a few dark, curly strands away from his ear and smoothed them back while she fit the device against his skin.

"Try them out!" Edward demanded as she let her hand fall back to her side.

"What do you mean, try them-"Jet began, but he was interrupted by a, "Whoa!" from Spike.

When Spike spoke, Jet's eyes grew wide, too.

"Jeez, what is this thing, Ed?" Spike asked. "It sounds like he's talking inside my head!"

"Exactly! Isn't it neat?" Edward asked. The device really was amazing, and tiny, too. It was completely hidden by Spike's hair, and the microchip was flesh colored so someone would only notice the skin discoloration behind Jet's ear if they were looking hard, which would be weird.

"Okay, girls," Jet finally said. "This is going to get bad, fast, so stay out of the way. Edward, interfere with any of the exits he tries to use, okay?" Jet asked, motioning towards the Tomato sitting on the bed.

"Yes, Captain!" Edward said, saluting.

When Jet and Spike were gone, Faye flopped onto the bed and turned on the television. "We're paying for the room, might as well put it to good use," Faye grumbled to herself.

Edward sat next to Faye's legs, scouring the building's schematics. When she was confident she had easy access to every door and electronic window, she turned her research to Hypner's new friends. He'd picked the two men up only two days ago, and not much was known about them except for the fact that they easily sat back and watched Hypner as he destroyed everything and everybody around him.

Edward checked their records. The two men appeared to be pretty light, as far as crime went. Combined, they had only spent a year's worth of time in jail, and most of their misdemeanors were parking fines. One worked job-to-job and had bad credit, but the other man lived with his sister and had a steady job.

Edward didn't like it. What were a couple of small fries who had no records of violence doing with a bomb like Billy Hypner? They weren't friends with the guy – his past life had been too high class to include them. Heck, the two tagalongs weren't even friends with _each other_.

It took Edward almost fifteen whole minuets to dig up dirt on the two men, and then she exclaimed. Grabbing the communicator, which Spike and Jet had only been using to speak to each other so far, she called out to Spike and Jet.

"Get out, come back!" she demanded. "It's worse than we thought!"

But it was too late. The fight had already begun. She could hear the explosions from the top floor of the hotel, and Jet and Spike were yelling to each other through the communicator.

"What the hell is going on?" Faye cried, jumping from the bed and running for her gun, which was sitting on a hotel table.

"They're giving Hypner drugs to keep him going," Edward answered breathlessly as she gathered her Tomato. "One of the guys is just sick with control, but the other one has a vendetta. He's guiding Hypner, getting him to destroy a bunch of high class thugs who put him in the gutters. "

"Shit," Faye hissed. "What does that mean, Ed?"

"It means the guys are in trouble! Hyper's attacks have been random and rage filled the last few weeks, but tonight was _planned_. They're going to rip this place apart!"

"Ed, fire up the Bebop," Faye commanded. "I'm going to find the guys – damn it, where's that stupid communicator – I'm going to find the guys, and we're getting the hell out of here!"

"Right," Edward agreed, easily finding the communicator and tossing it to Faye. Once prepared, Faye raced into the hall and towards the upper levels, where the sounds of a battle could be clearly and easily heard, even from ten stories below.

Edward wasn't far behind. She only had to gather what was left of their electronics and weapons into a bag and toss it over her shoulder before racing from the room and joining the rush of panicking bodies which were running from the roof-top casino and towards the docking bays below.

Edward wasn't surprised when explosives began to go off throughout the hotel. When the building began to break apart, the cosphere satellite which housed the casino and provided support for human life began to break apart, as well. When the air began to leak from the sphere and into space, panels fell from the wall uncovering basic space suits which would sustain human life in space for a short while.

The panicking crowd around Edward pulsed towards the suits, grabbing at them and yanking the oxygen masks over their faces. Edward was startled when one of the hotel attendants, who was honestly doing his best to calm the masses and follow emergency protocol, began to manhandle Edward into one of the suits.

"Follow the blue lights!" the middle aged man was calling to the people crowding the hall. "The _blue lights along the ceiling_!" As he pointed them out, Edward suddenly saw the lights, flashing in a similar fashion as the constant red _malfunction_ light did in the Bebop. "There are life boats at the end of the corridors, and there are plenty for everybody-"

At the mention of lifeboats, the crowd seemed to grow larger and heavier as they shoved harder to reach the lifeboats.

Gasping, Edward wrenched herself away from the well meaning attendant and forced her way into one of the rooms. There, she took a deep breath of the noticeably thin oxygen before removing the pack from her back and the computer from where she had somehow managed to keep it balanced on her head. Quickly and as calmly as possible, she straitened the suit and oxygen mask over her face before retrieving the bag and her Tomato.

Edward could hear the mayhem outside the door, so she opened her computer and found the hotel schematics. She hacked into two near-by satellites and compared the location of the crumbling building's security precision detectors with their original locations in the intact hotel and casino. Edward found that the hotel had broken into five huge pieces. The biggest fragment, the top-floor casino, was moving fast towards the cosphere's ceiling. The casino and cosphere would collide, and the casino would crash through, creating a vacuum which would suck the rest of the hotel into space.

_We'll be okay_, Edward began to chant as she used the hotel blueprints to locate the quickest, easiest, _quietest _way to reach the docking bay. She found a heating vent which she could easily, and safely (since the gravity was beginning to malfunction) slide down. She would have to cross to one of the separated pieces of the hotel to reach the docking bay, but Edward was confident she could maneuver herself around the debris, and she wasn't afraid.

On a separate piece of the hotel, Faye was attempting the same maneuver as Edward, with much less grace and tact. When the hotel began to break apart, she'd quickly diverted her plans from finding Jet and Spike to reaching the Bebop. She didn't have Edward's tolerance of chaos, however, and when the crowd began to force her in a direction she didn't want to go, she fired a few shots into the air. As a result, she had won one of the nicest survival suits and one of the hotel's private acceleration packs. She easily escaped the drifting piece of hotel and was diving for the docking bay with a simple pull of her gun's trigger.

Spike and Jet were having a much rougher time. They had managed to kill one of Hypner's cohorts but had lost site of the other and Hypner himself. They soon heard from Faye that she and Edward were headed for the Bebop, and they planned to follow. However, the casino was moving fast for the edge of the cosphere, and their escape was risky. They had no other option but to commandeer one of the lifeboats for themselves. If they moved too slowly, there wouldn't be enough time to get to the docking bay before the coshphere broke apart and everything was sucked into space. Space was dangerous because during the initial vacuum, some pieces of the hotel would drift away, but it was highly possible that a few fragments would collide.

Faye reached the docking bay first. Because of the bay's constant exposure to space, it had an atmospheric containment system separate from that of the cosphere, and Faye was glad to rip the constraining oxygen mask from her face.

She was halfway across the bay when two things happened. First, Edward fell from one of the air vents, laughing as fresh oxygen ruffled her hair and made it wild. Second, Billy Hypner forced himself through one of the casino hatches, laughing wildly at both the deaths of his "friends" and the destruction of something as expensive and beautiful as the Sun Hotel and Casino.

Billy saw Faye first, and the very appearance of a living being enraged him. The drugs were running fresh and fast through his system. Strangling Aidik had been satisfying, especially after suffering that ass-hole's smug self assuredness since Mars. However, that satisfaction was forgotten after seeing the young, beautiful woman. He hated her on site, the smug bitch. Billy thought that she had everything, beauty, confidence, and probably a beautiful husband who gave her whatever jewels and gems she wanted. He wanted to destroy her, and only then would he destroy the pretty laughing girl who had what he was sure would be a life of promise and achievement.

Billy stumbled a little from the drugs as he pulled the gun from the front of his pants, and he began shooting wildly. Most of Billy's bullets missed, but one caught the pretty woman's arm. Out of ammunition, Billy went after her with his hands. Two of her bullets caught him, but he didn't feel them. He ripped at her, ripped at the wires surrounding him, ripped at anything he could get his hands on, including some support cables which held one of the cabin panels in place. Billy laughed when the panel fell onto the woman, crushing her lower half and trapping her.

Billy laughed, but Edward screamed. Faye was screaming too, from pain.

Edward was horrified. Spike was shot often, but not Faye. Never Faye. There had been close calls, but Faye knew how to dodge, how to duck.

"_Stop_!" Edward cried to Billy as he advanced on Faye. She dropped the bag around her shoulders; she even let her Tomato carelessly fall to the ground as she yelled to the madman again and again. "_I said STOP!_ _Stop or I'll shoot_!"

The words were out of Edward's mouth before she could process them, but once they were in the air, Edward froze.

The gun in her hand was one of Jet's, and Edward wondered how it got into her hands. It was heavy in an unfamiliar way, and Edward knew there were bullets in it. Her eyes flew from the gun to the open pack on the floor to Faye's small, broken body. The woman was gasping and crying, uselessly fingering the large piece of metal which was crushing her legs and stomach. Billy Hypner was jumping from a platform, his eyes intent on Faye and drool dripping from the edge of his mouth as he hurried to finish killing the woman.

_He's going to kill Faye_, _but I can't kill him_, Edward thought, again registering the weight of the loaded gun in her hands.

_Spike never taught me to shoot. I've never held a loaded gun._

Then, Edward remembered. The gun was a bluff, a tall, tall bluff. And what had Spike said about bluffing?

_Cool, calm_, he'd said. _Never change your attitude, never change your face_.

Edward took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Stop," she demanded, pushing confidence into her voice and speaking quietly. "Stop."

Hypner seemed to register her words, but he only laughed.

_Cool, calm. Never change your attitude, never change your face_.

"I said stop!" Edward said again. The call was louder this time, and a bit more frantic, but Edward had managed to keep an even tone.

This time, Hypner didn't even pause at her warning.

_Cool, calm. Never change your attitude, never change your face. _Edward thought there was something else- _Believe the bluff. Believe_.

"I'll shoot you!" Edward declared again, making sure to keep both her arm and voice steady, _cool_.

Hyper set a foot on the metal which pressed down on Faye and added just a little, _little_ weight, and Faye screamed once more before passing out. Her head fell limp, but still Hypner advanced.

_Cool, calm, believe the bluff. Believe the bluff. Believe the-_

_ You shoot to kill_.

The gun went off, and the bullet went strait through Billy Hypner's head.

Edward fell to one knee, but was only there long enough to drop the gun and let out a single long, deep breath. She quickly rose back to her feet and rushed towards Faye.

When she pushed Hypner off of the metal panel, she glimpsed his face long enough to be horrified by his expression. His eyes were still opened wide, the pupils dilated from madness, and his teeth were bared with the intent to kill, destroy. For the moment she looked at him, Edward didn't doubt that he would again rise and attack her.

Her problem wasn't Billy Hypner anymore, though. Her problem now was Faye, who lay unconscious with blood trickling from her mouth.

Edward pried her fingers under the edge of the metal panel and grunted from the effort of lifting it. She didn't lift it far, though. Maybe one-forth, one-fifth of an inch. She kept trying, though, staring from Faye's helpless expression to Hypner's murderous grin. She strained her legs and back until finally, the metal lifted, and Faye was pulled from under the panel. Edward wasn't the one who lifted the panel, though. Jet and Spike had finally arrived about five minuets too late.

Spike was already cradling Faye in careful arms and rushing her towards the Bebop while Jet locked a strong arm around Edward's chest and pulled her after Spike and Faye.

Jet had the medical experience, so he shoved Spike away from Faye and snapped at him to load the ship and get them out.

"You've got to steer us out, Ed," Spike gently told her, pushing her from the room where Jet was working on Faye. "There's no one to operate the bay gates, and we don't know how to open them."

Edward nodded, but her hands had begun to shake again. She went to the captain's chair and began firing the engines. The gates were still closed, and she mechanically reached for the USB cable tied in her hair so that she could attach it to her remote control and break the damn thing open. The USB cable wasn't there, though, nor was the remote control in front of her.

Spike appeared the moment before she could fall apart, setting her Tomato in front of her and on top of the main controls. Once the technology was within her reach, Edward easily, mindlessly hacked into the gate's system and opened the bay doors to release them.

In the time it had taken Edward to kill Billy Hypner, the casino had crashed through the cosphere, and the rest of the hotel and casino had fallen through the vacuum. When the doors opened, Edward and Spike only saw black space and white stars shining in the distance. The sun was behind them, big and hot and closer than most humans ever came to the burning sphere.

"Set auto pilot for Venus," Spike demanded quietly. Edward did as he said, and the second the fishing craft took control, Spike took her arm and pulled her up, keeping her upright as he urged her towards his bedroom.

"Jet's already called an ambulance," Spike said quietly. "Their ships move faster than the Bebop, and they'll meet us before we're even half way to Venus. She's got help coming fast, Edward."

They were in Spike's room, and Spike was pulling the emergency space suit off of Edward.

"Sleep," Spike demanded, but when Edward lay down on the unfamiliar bed, she couldn't force her eyes closed.

Sighing, Spike sat on the end of the bed, bracing his back against the wall and staring at the door.

It seemed like Edward only blinked, but it must have been hours latter when Jet entered the room and announced, "They've taken her. They've got her on a breathing apparatus and they're saying they can still get her heart to pump blood."

Jet wandered in and out of the room for a while, restlessly pacing across the ship and listlessly moving the objects in Spike's room around. Spike didn't seem to notice, though. He sat at Edward's feet, staring at the door, his eyes sharp and clear. For a moment, Edward wondered what he was thinking of, but then Jet came into the room and sat on the floor, leaning against the bed next to Edward's head. He had an old harmonica in his hand, and Edward wondered where Jet had found it. He stared at the harmonica for a moment before he began to play long, whiny notes on the instrument.

The music finally lured Edward to sleep, where she had nightmares for the first time in her life and only slept for an hour before snapping awake.

The room was dark, but she could tell that it was Spike's form slumped over her legs, and Jet's head was pillowed on his arms by Edward's chest.

It was different with Faye. She often got into trouble, and she had a big mouth which made her an automatic target in a fight, but she was never _shot_. It was fine when Spike or Jet were shot. It had happened before, and it would happen again, and no one doubted that the two men could recover easily. But this had been sudden, violent, and they _had to call a hospital_. They had never needed to call a hospital before, not even after Spike was shot up by the Red Dragons.

Edward lay awake until a light, synthetic voice declared, "Approaching Venus terminal. Prepare for docking."

The two men woke easily at the declaration, and all three stood to attend to the ship.

Edward drew out of her shock when a handsome male nurse fed her a small pill. The tiredness hit her like a brick, but Edward realized the situation. She realized that Faye was hurt.

"What's wrong?" Jet was asking one of the doctors.

"Her legs and some major organs will have to be rebuilt, but some tests revealed that she's already been in hibernation once, and many of the chemicals are still running through her body so it was simplest to put her in a freezer. We've already begun the recirculation of fluids-"

"What?" Jet snapped.

"She's hurt and it's likely she'll die," the doctor said simply. "Hibernation is her best shot."

"Shit," Jet swore, turning away from the doctor and beginning to strut down the hall.

"Hey! Where the hell are you going?" Spike cried, glaring after Jet.

"I'm going to the damn bar!"

When Jet stepped into an elevator and pressed his finger to the down button so violently it cracked, the doctor sighed. "We told the directors not to install a _bar_ of all things next to the souvenir shop."

Still glaring at everything, Spike declared, "I need a cigarette."

Edward was left with the doctor.

"Will she be okay?" Ed asked.

"It's hard to say… It's unlikely."

"Well what's wrong?" Edward finally snapped. Frustrated, she pushed past the doctor and into Faye's room. The cylinder tube which incased her body was frosty and moist from the cold temperature of the hibernation chamber.

Edward recognized the hibernation chamber easily. She also recognized several monitors and a respirator. "What is all this? What do these machines do?" she asked the doctor as he followed her into the room. Edward was swinging her Tomato from its place strapped to her back, and she braced it on her left forearm as she flipped it open, already typing madly. The doctor didn't have a chance to speak for himself before Edward pointed to one of the fluid isolators at the end of the chamber. "There are at least three models more efficient than that one!"

Sighing, the doctor answered, "_I know_. And our sister center is sending one of them to us-"

"What does that machine do?" Edward asked, pointing to a tall machine leaning against the far wall.

The doctor didn't leave until he had described Faye's every injury and the name of every machine keeping her alive.

Edward didn't leave until she had researched every injury and every injury's treatment, and she didn't leave until she had the blueprints for every machine keeping Faye alive.

**Annoying Note: And there you have it. Ed has officially killed someone. :( **

**Aside from the number of horrible things that happened in this chapter, I hope it was okay. I've never quiet written anything quiet like this before, and I feel like the mood changed often and fast in this chapter. Part of that, though, was writing the crew member's reactions to Faye being shot (keep in mind, you haven't _really_ seen their reactions yet. And in case you blinked and missed it, Edward was in shock while they were traveling to the hospital, and they cured her shock with a magical future shock-curing pill. Simply put, she's a bit hyped up on drugs now. : / **

**Anyways, all things considered, I hope you liked it. The emotion/ plot/ my writing really evens out in the next few chapters. Gha, it's hard to write action packed chapters.**

** Review, please!  
**


	13. Session 13

Edward was tired, hungry, and unspeakably scared. Overwhelmed by the unfamiliar emotions, she dragged herself away from her Tomato and the Intensive Medical Ward.

She found Spike chain smoking in the waiting room, slumped forward in a corner chair. Edward dropped into the chair across from him, studying the dark circles under his eyes and his hunched shoulders.

"You're really worried about Faye, aren't you?" Edward asked quietly, pulling her legs onto her chair, wrapping her arms around them and setting her chin on her knees.

"Ed, I can count my friends on one hand," Spike answered with a bitter smile. "If Faye dies, I could loose a couple of fingers and still say the same thing."

"They – they say they don't have blue goop," Edward said slowly. "They said that the creation of blue goop is illegal and highly immoral…"

When Edward learned more about Faye's injuries, she recognized that most of the injuries around her arms and chest could be healed by using the blue goop which the crew always used for Spike's injuries. Regrettably, they had run out of their supply almost two months previously after Jet had been injured while doing some repairs on the Bebop. When she brought up the blue goop to the doctors, it took them a long time to figure out what ointment she was describing. When they realized what she was referring to, they had been _insulted_ that she suggested using it.

"I stole that stuff from the Red Dragons when I split," Spike explained, answering Edward's unspoken question. "And the stuff they had was stolen, too."

"From where?" Edward asked.

"Why the hell do you want to know, Ed?" Spike snarled. The day had been long for him, just as it had been long for everyone else, and he was reaching a breaking point. He didn't need to talk about _blue goop_ or the Red Dragons, or about any of the other memories which he was just learning to push away from the forefront of his consciousness.

However, when Spike looked at Edward, he saw a scared, young girl. A young, beautiful girl who had killed a man and who could possibly loose one of the only humans she had a true connection with, a true relationship. She was in trouble, and the next few hours could make or break her. This night would influence the rest of her life, and she would always carry it. The situation was dangerous, and the _blue goop_ as Edward called it, would only make it worse.

Then, Edward said, "The doctors told me… They said they'd keep her frozen for a week, but if she didn't make... _any_ improvement in that time, they'd… they'd…" the unsympathetic nurse had said, "cut her loose," but Edward couldn't find it in herself to repeat the words.

Slowly, Spike stood, walked the few short steps to the bench Edward sat in, and slid into the seat next to her.

"Edward, Vicious stole the blue goop from Titan," Spike explained in a low voice. "It took him years, and he almost died. Even when he didn't die, the mess he got into followed him… he's still running from what he got into on Titan..."

Edward's bottom lip began to quiver. Before she could press her face into her knees, Spike handed her his partially smoked cigarette. She accepted the cigarette with shaking hands as she said, "Faye only has a-a week."

Spike took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, he slouched backwards into his seat and said, "Don't worry about it, Ed. If nothing else, Faye is stubborn. She's stubborn, and she's not tired of being a thorn in my ass. She'll be back on the Bebop and making life hell again in no time."

"And what if she's not?" Edward asked, sticking the cigarette in her mouth.

Spike shrugged. "Whatever happens, happens. Faye may not survive, but we will."

Edward finished the cigarette, and when Spike offered her another one, she accepted. She leaned against his side, chain smoking with him for an hour, even after the cigarettes made her sick. When her body was unable to handle anymore, she bent over Spike's lap and lay down, holding her hands to her stomach.

"Damn it, Ed," Spike growled as he tried to adjust himself to her unfamiliar weight. Spike wasn't a physically open person, and neither was Edward, and the situation struck him as strange for a moment, but only for that single, short time.

Faye may have counted as a finger, but so did Ed. The girl was growing up fast, and Spike didn't know what that meant for the teenager. He knew that while loosing Faye was a possibility, loosing Edward was a threat all its own.

Edward slept off her sickness, and when she awoke it was to find Spike asleep sitting upright in his seat. During her nap, Jet had returned from the bar, and he was passed out in the seat across from them.

Her friends asleep and accounted for, and her stomach feeling much better, Edward stole the drunken Jet's communicator and found a solitary corner, void of security cameras and other peeping electronics.

She dialed the number from memory, and it was only a minuet before Charley picked up.

"Edward, you look like shit," Charley said in his flat, blunt way, and he scowled at her through the communicator.

"Charley, I need a favor," Edward answered. "I've looked you up, and I know just what you can do in the syndicates."

"Yes," he said slowly, perfectly aware of what she was referring to.

"Do you think your line of expertise could be applied to an illegal military agency?" she asked.

For a moment, Charley only stared at her through the communicator. Then, an unfamiliar smirk stretched across his lips. "I knew getting to know you would be fun," he told her.

* * *

"Son of a bitch," Spike cursed. As a scowl settled across his face, the invoice crumpled in his fist.

Most of the bill was the _projected _cost of Faye's care and treatment, but then there was also a mean little note mentioning a previous unpaid account.

"There are one or two very… delicate procedures which are possible," the doctor was telling them. "But one is experimental, and both are very, very expensive."

"The hospital is responsible-" Jet began.

"The hospital is responsible for keeping the patient alive," the doctor interrupted. "The experimental procedure we're looking at may aid in keeping her alive, but it hasn't been proven effective, and the hospital isn't required to perform highly dangerous experimental procedures when they haven't yet been proven to help. The other operation would only create the possibility that she could walk again after her condition has improved, but it won't improve her _current_ condition."

Jet's metal fist came down on the nurse's station, and the force of his anger dented and cracked the cheep linoleum counter. "So you don't care for her unless we give you the money?"

_One week_ Edward reminded herself. They would disconnect Faye in one week.

_Easy sheemzy_ Edward decided.

"Billy Hypner," Edward suddenly cried. "Let's cash that sucker in."

"Right," Jet agreed. Turning towards the startled doctor, he asked, "Where's the nearest police station?"

"What? I – The police station is on the South side of the city, near Sorsmoth St and Cornell-"

"Thanks," Jet ground out as he turned towards the exit, pulling Edward behind him. Spike was left to glare at the doctor and haggle down the bill, if possible.

Jet's thoughts were muddled as he and Edward navigated the buses and subways to find the police station. He wished the nurse had given him the same pill which had been given to Edward. The girl was still obviously upset, but she seemed focused, focused like she usually only was when she was in cyberspace. Jet wanted that focus, that ability to block everything from his mind except what was important in that very moment, and he wondered if the pill they had given Ed would help him with that.

Of course, Jet knew he wouldn't be taking one of those pills, and he knew it wouldn't affect him like it did her. After all, he didn't _really_ need to focus. He needed to forget, and a pill like what Ed had been given would probably just make it easier to remember what Faye looked like while he was fumbling to patch her up. A pill like that would just make the memory of her injuries more vivid. It sickened him to remember touching her crushed legs, watching a drop of blood fall from the edge of her mouth-

"He said Sorsmoth, right?" Jet asked, snapping away from the memory and back to the bus he and Edward were riding on.

Not only did Edward look at Jet with worried eyes, but several other passengers looked at him strangely, too.

"Yeah," Edward told Jet. "Sorsmoth and Cornell."

When Edward continued to stare at Jet, he snapped, "What?"

"Nothing," Edward told him, looking back at an advertisement plastered across the seat she was facing.

Edward was jerked from her thoughts five minuets later when Jet _again_ asked, "It's at Sorsmoth, right?" His voice was strangely loud, as it had been when he'd previously asked the question, and he again drew attention from the other commuters.

"Yeah, Jet," Edward confirmed for the forth time. "Sorsmoth and Cornell."

* * *

"I killed Billy Hypner," Edward told the receptionist in the police station.

The woman sitting behind the desk stared at Edward open mouthed, and then she finally said, "I know." The woman pointed to a small television mounted in a high corner of the reception area, and Edward turned in time to watch the security camera footage of Hypner's body hitting the floor.

Jet grabbed Edward's shoulder and jerked her back to face the receptionist before more than the vision of Hypner's maddened expression could flash across the screen. It took a moment for Edward to blink the memory from her eyes. When she was refocused on her environment, she saw that the nervous receptionist was fumbling with the remote control for the television, trying to turn it off.

When the woman turned back to Edward and Jet, she stared at them with wide eyes, waiting.

"We're here for the bounty," Jet snapped at the woman.

"Oh, right," the woman said, pressing a button on the large switchboard in front of her. Into her mouthpiece, she said, "The people from Billy Hypner are here…" Then, to Jet and Edward, she said, "Detective Orison will be down in a few moments."

Jet and Edward stood in the lobby for a few moments, staring at the receptionist as they waited for the detective, and the receptionist stared back at them.

The receptionist was staring at Edward. When reports of the collapsing Sun Casino were called in that morning, she knew it was Billy Hypner's doing. He had already crashed past Venus, so she'd heard similar reports before. By then, Hypner was the most hated figure in the solar system and most humans were watching his every move. He hadn't been heard of for a day or two, and his silence made people more nervous than his rampaging destruction did, so she had turned on the news to listen to the new reports.

It wasn't long until Hypner was reported dead. The hackers working for the news stations found the security footage before the police even found and recovered the man's body.

Quiet a few people wanted to watch Hypner die. He had enraged a lot of bad people and an even greater number of good people, so everyone stopped what they were doing to see how he went. Of course, everyone assumed he had died from the collapsing casino, just as a couple hundred other people had died that morning. No one knew that he was so close to escape, and they didn't know they would watch him be murdered by a little girl.

_When I was her age, I went to school and complained that I had to eat at the table with my family during dinner every night. I never saw violence. _

The receptionist remembered watching the girl as she raised the gun and cried out at the man. She remembered that the girl had threatened the man, said _I'll shot you!_ And then, she had shot him. She shot him, and then she came into the police station and she said _I killed Billy Hypner_ and demanded her money, as simple as that.

_I don't think I could have even lifted a gun when I was her age_, the receptionist thought. _But she just killed a man, and she came in here and told me about it_.

Jet knew that the woman was judging Edward. He could see it in the tilt of her eyes, and he hated her for it. _She isn't half the person Edward is_, Jet knew. He knew that the woman would never sacrifice herself for another person, would never defend her friends or family the way Edward had defended Faye. _This spineless woman wouldn't have the balls_, Jet thought.

Edward wondered why they were waiting for a detective. Spike, Faye and Jet never had to wait for detectives while picking up their bounties.

Finally, Detective Orison arrived. He was a tall man with small eyes and a deep frown. His gaze made the hair on Edward's neck stand on end, and Jet's back straitened when he saw the man. Jet had never met Detective Orison before, but he had met policemen like him. They were men so hell-bent on keeping to the rules that they often forgot what true justice was. They lived in bureaucracy and emotion was absent from their work. In the last few months, Jet had begun having dreams about shadows which resembled Detective Orison.

"James Orison," the detective said by way of greeting.

He held out his hand to Jet first, and Jet grudgingly took it and answered, "Jet Black."

Then, Orison held his hand to Edward. When she put her hand in his, he gripped it firmly, turning her hand over to look at her wrist. "Where's your identification?" the man asked. "On your foot? Your neck?"

Jet knew the man was referring to human bar code. Any child born in a hospital was given one. It was more official than fingerprints, and harder to fake or remove. They were mostly used for identifying bodies and enforcing no-cheating rules in high school and college, but the bar codes were also a favorite among police when they needed proof of identity.

"I don't have one," Edward told Orison.

Many criminals tried to remove the bars. They weren't just black ink on skin, though. The bars were applied along with a layer of heat sensitive chemical which seeped into the skin over time, so unless the mark was removed by the time the child was a year old, the heated chemical would sink through the layers of the skin and then into the muscle. The black ink was easily removed, but heat wasn't.

Edward wasn't the first person Jet had heard claim that they didn't have the tattoo, but she was the first person who he believed.

Orison scowled at Edward's declaration. Jet didn't doubt that the detective had heard this claim as often as he had when he worked on Ganymede, and so Jet wasn't surprised when the man pulled out an instant sensor from his coat pocket.

Edward stood patiently as the detective inspected first one forearm, then the other. She obediently held her hair away from her neck as he inspected her upper back and shoulders beneath the wide straps of her dress. As usual, she wasn't wearing shoes or socks, so she only had to turn her legs as he ran the sensors around her ankles.

When Orison straitened, his small eyes were narrowed, and Edward was reminded of a shark.

"Please," Orison said quietly, "follow me to my office."

Neither Jet nor Edward moved to follow him.

"Dead or Alive was added to the bounty over a week ago," Jet told the detective. "And even if that little stipulation didn't exist, she still couldn't be charged with anything more than self defense."

"The fact that she killed a man last night has nothing to do with why I'd like to speak to you, in private please."

Jet felt something drop into his stomach, and he was pretty sure it was his heart. As he and Edward were lead further into the building, Jet realized just when it was that he'd begun to dream of the shadow which resembled Detective Orison. It was a few weeks ago, after looking up the bounty on Radical Edward. Radical Edward was worth more than Billy Hypner. Only by a hair, but when talking in millions, hairs could be worth thousands.

_He knows_, Jet thought. Police were expected to catch the bad guys, but if the bad guys had a bounty on them, the officers who helped make the arrest were entitled to a chunk of the profit. For mister ISSP Detective, a chunk of Radical Edward's profit could mean retirement.

_Shoot the guy and run_ was Jet's first idea. But of course, he didn't have a gun. He didn't need one at the hospital, so his harmonica sat in his pocket instead of his gun. He suspected that Detective Orison had a gun, though, and it wouldn't be difficult to wrestle it from the man.

It took a moment, but Jet's thoughts finally registered in his brain. He realized he didn't need a gun. He needed food, alcohol, and a week's worth of sleep.

In the detective's office, Jet and Edward slid into chairs while Orison slowly sat behind his desk.

"What is this about?" Jet asked, clenching his fists in an effort to contain his emotions.

"This is about this young lady," Orison said, "and her true identity."

"What?" Edward asked.

"We have found three records of you on Mars, and each of them gives a different name for you."

"Three? But I've been to Mars four times, so I should have at least one more," Edward told him.

"Where is your identification?"Orison snarled. "You've got to have identification."

"Of course I do," Edward confirmed. "My papers are on the Bebop."

"Papers?" Orison asked slowly.

"Of course," Edward answered. Leaning forwards she said, "Detective, the hospitals on Earth don't distribute bar codes. We're given papers when we're born."

"I think you should explain what you're getting at, Detective Orison," Jet said slowly. His temper was short, and unless the man _said_ he wasn't after Radical Edward-

"I'm wondering why an underage girl is wandering around the solar system _killing people_ when she should be living with her parents and attending school!"

"Detective, I'm nineteen," Edward told Orison. "I haven't had to answer to my parents or the school for two years. If there's a _real_ reason you're withholding the bounty from us-"

"The bounty won't be paid until identification is produced," Detective Orison stated.

"I've got identification," Jet told the detective as he stood. He fingered the high collar of his vest. "So if you'll excuse us…"

Jet nodded for Edward to follow him. Jet meant only to touch her shoulder as he motioned her through the door before him, but his hand settled on Edwards shoulder and sat there as they made their way to the collector's. Jet could feel Detective Orison's eyes on their backs as they left his office, and he knew that if Detective Orison didn't suspect anything before, he certainly did now.

On the bus back to the hospital, Jet asked, "How long until you turn 18, Edward?"

"Three weeks," she answered breathlessly.

Jet quietly cursed. _One week for Faye, three weeks for Ed_, he thought.

**A/N - This is a quick update, I know, but don't get used to it. :( I wasn't happy with where the last chapter left off, and just looking at the end of that chapter made me anxious. I usually post a chapter when I've got fifteen or twenty pages written after the post (just in case I want to edit something to better fit the plot) but I posted this chapter when I only had three pages written past this post. It might be a while until I post another chapter. Still, I felt this was a good once because it's more my style and some interesting things happened. I'm just more comfortable with leaving you this for a while than I was leaving you... well... you know. **

**As always, I love seeing feedback! Review!  
**


	14. Session 14

Jet had to carry Edward from the bus and into the Bebop. The girl didn't wake as Jet laid her across the couch, nor did she wake in the next fifteen hours.

Jet and Spike slept for nearly as long as Edward did. It had been a long week for all of them. The two older men had spent most of their time gathering quick, cheep bounties to pay off the rest of Faye's invoice while Edward stayed at the hospital and altered the equipment keeping Faye alive. Ed hadn't slept in two days while she scoured over blueprints for the cryogenic chamber. It took her so long because she was used to developing electronics simply for the sake of developing electronics. In the first day, she found a dozen improvements which made the cryogenic chamber more energy efficient, but none which would actually improve Faye's condition. Finally, though, _finally, _Edward found a way to rewire the expotronits, redistribute the fluids, and lower the use of HN components in a way which was _sure_ to improve Faye's condition, if even a little bit.

The cryogenic chamber was altered while Faye was in surgery. Edward wasn't authorized to touch half of the chemicals within the equipment, so she had only been allowed to wear a bio-suit while looking over the technician's shoulder as he made the adjustments.

After Edward's improvements to the machine, Faye only had twelve hours to show some sort of improvement before the doctors determined her _incapable_ of making improvement. At the end of those twelve hours, Faye hadn't improved, _exactly_, but thisulatic fluid was flowing through her body at a faster rate, and she was even absorbing some of it. This little change alone didn't count as proof that Faye was improving, but it was something, and the hospital was still very thankful of the alterations Edward had developed for the cryogenic chamber. They declared that they would give Faye a real two months to show improvement.

With Faye's condition (somewhat) stable and her continued medical care insured, the crew felt it was safe to return to the Bebop and take a rest.

And rest they did, until a hard thud sounded against the shell of the Bebop, the sound beginning near the hanger and echoing through the ship.

Spike, who had spent a rare night in his bed, sat up with a groggy moan and a long scowl. As the strange hollowed thud sounded through the Bebop again, he pulled himself off of the bed. He put on some faded sweat pants before leaving the room, and he only bothered with that much so that when he passed through the common area, he could grab his Jericho and slip it into the back band of the material.

As he grabbed his gun and made sure it was loaded, another thud sounded through the ship. Spike first glanced to Jet, who laid asleep sitting upright in a chair with his arms crossed and a leg propped up against the table. Spike then looked to Edward, who still slept soundly on the couch with her head hanging over the edge of the cushions and her mouth wide open.

Amazed that he had awoken before either of them and amused by their uncomfortable positions, Spike started towards the hanger, where the hollow thud was coming from.

Outside, the sky of Venus was pale orange, and Spike scowled when he saw that one of the floating plant masses had settled over the Bebop, and more were beginning to clump in the area.

Spike easily strolled around the deck until he came to the hanger door.

A man stood scowling at the large metal doors. He wore a long trench coat with the collar pulled high against the cool early morning wind. He held a large wrench in his hand, a tool the man had probably found lying around on the deck near Jet's _Hammerhead_, and Spike watched as he raised the tool and gave the hanger door a solid bang. The sound was hollow and it echoed outside just as it had inside.

"What are you doing?" Spike asked.

The man turned to face Spike, his small dark eyes narrowed.

"You don't have a doorbell, and your communication systems seem to be down," the man answered as he carelessly dropped Jet's tool to the deck.

Spike grinned at the stranger, even though he didn't much like the man's posture. "We may have hacked a few parts to come up with some quick cash. If you're a sky marshal then-"

"I'm not," the man told Spike. "I'm Detective Orison, and you must be Spike Spiegel."

"Ah, Detective," Spike greeted. "We've already spoken to the police about the Sun Casino, and we've given them our report. I'm sure they've got it on file or sitting under a coffee pot if you need it."

Detective Orison was unimpressed by Spike's clear disapproval of him. "I was wondering if Stevie was here. Maybe you could invite her outside to speak with me."

"Stevie?" Spike asked. "I can't say she's here."

"Fine," Orison said as he reached into his jacket.

Spike remained calm, not letting his anxiety show on his face and keeping his posture easy and relaxed. In a moment, though, he was ready to pull his gun and fight. Spike was forming a plan to toss Orison over the side of the ship and into the greenish orangish water below if the man pulled a gun.

Instead, Orison retrieved a manila envelope from his jacket and held it towards Spike. Still suspicious of the man's black eyes and intent scowl, Spike reached for the envelope.

"What is this?" Spike asked.

"It's an order detailing the house arrest of Stevie Abendock. She isn't allowed to leave this ship, let alone this city or this planet, pending criminal investigation."

"Investigation of what?" Spike asked with a raised eyebrow as he opened the manila envelope. As he suspected, the papers were written in legal jargon, and he didn't have the patience to read past the first sentence.

"Investigation of identity theft and fraud."

Within the legal documents and restraining order which Orison had given Spike, there was a picture of Edward.

_Oh_, Spike thought.

Spike had to turn away before the man saw his smile.

_Of all the things that girl could be arrested for… _

_

* * *

_

"It's not like we could leave the planet anyway," Spike reminded Jet. "The Bebop can't fly right now."

"That's not the point," a clearly irritated Jet snapped. "You don't know what these cops are like. Once they sink their teeth in…"

"I think we can handle Orison," Spike told Jet, still unconcerned.

Jet cursed, scowling at the papers spread over the coffee table. He glanced towards the kitchen, where Edward was scooping rice into Ein's bowl. The girl whispered softly, serenading the animal under her breath.

Edward had been notably distracted for the past day. She hardly reacted to the news of her house arrest, and she halfheartedly typed at her Tomato all afternoon.

It was strange, because Edward never did anything half way, especially when it involved her computer.

"We need to snap her out of it," Jet breathed.

Now _this _Spike agreed with, and he also glanced at Edward. "She needs a distraction," he said wisely. With a deep sigh, he stood. "What a drag. Let's get this over with and get out of here. This place is starting to get depressing. Edward!" he called, and the girl made her way into the common area.

"Edward," Jet said, "We need to figure out how to get out of this investigation."

"Oh, that?" Edward asked. "I've already sent for my Earth files."

"Your what?" Jet asked.

"My Earth files. There are fifty different identity agencies on Earth which have registered me under fifty different names. All of the identification I use is real," Edward told the men. "Once they have proof that the multiple identities I use are real, the house arrest will be null."

Jet shook his head. "I'm pretty sure it's illegal to have multiple identities, Edward."

"Sure it is. Bit if there's one thing all of those papers prove, it's that I'm a citizen of Earth. And while it's illegal to have multiple identities, Earth doesn't have any defined punishment for it."

"So they can't do anything to you?" Jet asked slowly.

Edward shrugged. "The Earth based ISSP could probably arrest me and throw me in jail for a while, but they could only do that after determining my real identity. And let's face it, they've got better things to do than chase after little girls for using a few different names."

Edward never thought that having multiple identities could really come in handy. She'd only gone through the process of creating paper proof of herself so many times while on Earth because she was bored, and if there was anything Edward liked, it was naming herself. Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV had hardly been created on the first try.

"We'll be out of here in a couple of days," Edward said confidently.

Sure enough, just three days latter, they received the call from the Venus police stating that the case was out of their jurisdiction, and they weren't legally allowed to hold Edward. Still, she was in trouble, and the Bebop crew didn't doubt that her name had been put on a few dangerous lists.

The crew found out why Edward wasn't escorted from the planet's atmosphere when Faye's hospital gave them a call.

Dr. Jakkala, the doctor in charge of Faye and the man who authorized Edward's alterations to the cryogenic chamber, appeared on Jet's personal communicator one morning after breakfast. The three crew members pressed close together so they could see the man and hear what he had to say.

"The board of directors met this evening, and they're moving to make an official model of the altered cryogenic chamber. They're offering payment in the form of an ammount off of Valentine's bill as well as a small stipend dependent on the success of the alterations. They're also interested in any… other alterations you might develop for the hospital's equipment."

"Really?" Edward asked.

The man nodded with a frown. It was difficult for him to speak with the Bebop crew on such friendly terms. During Faye's initial hospitalization, Jet and Edward had given the man problems, and Spike was just the kind of person who rubbed Dr. Jakkala the wrong way, so the group was difficult to tolerate all around. Still, Edward's work on the cryogenic chamber meant something big for the hospital, and it would mean even more if they could convince her to alter their other equipment, as well. They had been working hard to become one of the top hospitals in the district, but with good technology, they might even become the best on the planet.

"I'll think about it," Edward finally told the man. After the call, she grinned at Jet and Spike. "I smell easy money," she told them. Spike's eyebrow rose, and Jet grinned back.

* * *

It took a couple days to gather the money to buy back parts for the Bebop and get it flying. Edward spent most of her time at the hospital, working out a tentative contract and hovering around Faye's room.

Faye hadn't made any improvement. Edwards sat and stared at the monitors, waiting for her stats to rise, or for her vitals to change.

Edward only went near the chamber once, on the day the Bebop was leaving Venus. She stared into the frosted glass, recognizing the faint outline of Faye's narrow shoulders, her thin waist, and the bulky irons which had been placed over her legs during one of her surgeries.

When Faye's status still hadn't changed, Edward left the hospital downhearted. The lack of change was frustrating. Edward thought that as long as Faye made some improvement, _any _improvement at all, everything would be better. Edward thought the constant pressure in her chest would lift, and she'd be able to breathe a little easier. Maybe if Faye was better, the world wouldn't feel so strange.

"You think it's that easy?"

Edward blinked as her arm was grabbed and she was twisted around to meet Detective Orison's small, black, shark-like eyes.

Edward didn't like that he was touching her, and she scowled at his grip on her arm.

"Do you think this is a _game_?" Orison snarled, shaking her a little. "You've found a loophole, so you think you've escaped? Well I've got news for you – This little _game_ of yours won't continue."

Orison froze when a dangerous _click_ sounded next to his head.

"You'd better get your hands off of her," Spike informed the man. Edward stared at the unfamiliar frown on Spike's face. She couldn't remember a time when the cool tempered man seemed so angry. She was entranced by the man's expression, and she hardly noticed as Detective Orison stepped away from her.

"Oh, please," Orison was laughing at Spike. "You're another one, just like her. Your past will catch up – Your misdeeds aren't just forgotten and forgiven."

Spike's sharp gaze silenced the man. "If I ever see you touch her again, I'll put a bullet through your head," he promised.

Despite his threat, Spike clicked the safety on his gun and slipped it into the waist of his slacks. "Come on, Edward. We've got work to do."

Spike set his hand on Edward's shoulder and steered her away from Detective Orison. He moved easily, as if he had already forgotten the confrontation and didn't have a care in the world.

Edward knew better, though, and she wasn't surprised when Spike asked, "Has he been bothering you, Ed?"

"No," she told him truthfully. "I'd completely forgotten about him, actually.

Spike gave a gentle chuckle. "Yeah, he isn't the type you'd waist time on."

**Ta-da! I present to you another amazing chapter! At least, it's kind of amazing. It seemed short to me, but maybe that's because it was made of three somewhat short transition-like sections. The last few chapters I've thrown out didn't have too many pauses or breaks. Still, I didn't want the Bebop crew to be stuck in legal proceedings for long, so this is what you get.  
**

**I hope the medical and legal stuff in the chapter were half way believable. I don't know anything about medicine or the legal system. If you didn't notice, I made up some pretty crazy words to describe Faye's medical condition and the cryogenic chamber, and it took a lot out of me to think of a way to get Edward out of that legal situation without writing in a prison break (a prison break might sound exciting, but this story has enough going on as it is, thank you). I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope Edward's worry/mourning of Faye seems believable. I'll tell you what - Writing Edward as anything but happy and eccentric is tough. **

**I hope you were pleased! Review, please! Your encouragement keeps me inspired! **


	15. Session 15

**A/N: Here's a new chapter! Sorry it took so long, but I was having trouble finding a transition into a new part of the story. I must have rewritten this five or six times and in five or six different directions before becoming comfortable with this. Enjoy!**

Edward's birthday was noted for the first time in the five years she'd lived on the Bebop. There was no party for her, no cake, and there wasn't even a special meal. Birthdays weren't celebrated on the ship. Spike never made a point of telling anyone his birthday, Faye had no way of knowing when she was born, and Jet rarely noticed his birthday until after it had passed.

But when Edward turned eighteen, Jet acknowledged the day with a relieved sigh.

"We left Orison on Venus," Spike reminded Jet. "I don't know what you're so worried about _now_."

"It just one less concern," Jet explained.

"Edward's a smart girl. She can take care of herself," Spike argued.

"I know, okay?" Jet growled.

Edward spent the day in cyberspace. She was still getting used to being on the Bebop without Faye, and she thought maybe if she had something familiar to take her mind off of her friend, things may not seem so off-balance.

Of course, Ed's time in cyberspace was spent swimming around medical and hospital encryption sites, so the distraction proved inefficient. Still, even if cyberspace was inefficient as a distraction, it proved productive for Edward's studies.

"Who knew humans could be so interesting?" she asked Ein, who lay on the uncomfortable metal floor next to her. The dog yawned in response, then went back to sleep. "Don't brush us off so easily," Edward told the dog. "I bet I could find some pretty interesting stuff about you, too."

* * *

Jet went after a bounty, and Spike took Edward to a shooting range.

"You know, Vicious said you'd never teach me to shoot," Edward said absently as she practiced loading the gun and turning the safety of her Ruger on and off.

"It would be a pity not to teach you, when you're obviously such a great shot," Spike told her.

It was the first thing Spike had ever said about Billy Hypner's death, and Edward blinked at the strange acknowledgment. Ed had never thought of it like that, like she was _great_ at killing someone.

Edward glanced down at her Ruger, the gun that Spike had bought for her, the gun which she had always thought felt good in her hand, and she considered the long barrel and the small bullets which fit into the clip. She was glad she hadn't killed Billy Hypner with her Ruger. She probably wouldn't have been able to look at the gun again, let alone hold it.

"Okay," Spike told her. "Grip it tight, keep it steady. Try not to change the gun's angle when you pull the trigger. Keep a wide stance, with both feet facing forward."

Spike stood behind Edward, clear from the gun when she took the shot.

Edward shot a bull's eye.

"Not bad," Spike told her. "But the trick is to shoot like that in a tough situation, when you're moving and the target is moving, and you're both shooting at each other."

Edward wasn't really listening. She was only thinking of how shooting that target _didn't_ feel like shooting Billy Hypner.

Spike didn't ask Edward to take another shot. He instead showed her how to disassemble the gun and clean it.

"We'll have to buy a holster for you," Spike latter told her as they were walking towards a bar.

"Can't I just put it in my waistband, like you do?" Edward asked.

Spike lips stretched into a handsome smile. "I wear a concealed holster," he revealed. Edward realized his smile was so handsome because it was a conspiratorial smile, and he was sharing one of his secrets with her. "It fits inside my waist and makes it easy to store and hide the gun under my jacket. Your Ruger's long barrel wouldn't be comfortable around your waist, and besides-" Spike motioned to the dress Edward wore.

"Oh, yeah," she sighed. The dress she wore was actually Faye's (she wore one of her own sweaters to conceal the obvious… emptiness in the bust). Faye had thrown away most of Edward's shorts and pants by the time they went after Billy Hypner, so.

The satellite they were on wasn't big, and the bar they found didn't have a pool table. Edward didn't mind. She didn't feel like playing pool. She was happy to sit next to Spike at the bar.

"You old enough to drink?" the bartender asked Edward.

"No," she told the man.

"Pity. You look like you need something strong."

"You do," Spike said, glancing Edward over. He reached into his pocket and set his cigarettes on the bar in front of Ed. Spike watched as she found a book of matches on the bar top and lit herself a long cigarette.

"Are you okay, Edward?" Spike finally asked. It was a question he had been waiting to ask for the past month. Now, he decided that she'd had enough time to herself.

"I don't know," Edward answered. "Nothing seems… right. The things that used to be familiar… aren't anymore."

Spike gave a small, bitter grin. "It gets easy again," he promised.

Edward shook her head. "That's what I don't like… I've already gotten used to Faye being gone," she admitted. It made her feel horrible. Edward had begun sleeping in Faye's bed, wearing Faye's clothes – she'd even used one of Faye's headbands the other day. At first, she'd done it because she missed Faye and wanted to be reminded of her, but then Ein had begun sleeping at the end of the bed, Ed had cleared a pile of Faye's clothes off the desk for her Tomato, and she'd even moved the dresser into the closet so she'd have room to lay stretched out on the floor. The room didn't look like it was Faye's anymore.

Edward was even getting used to how quiet the ship was. Sure, Jet and Spike had their spats, but the arguments didn't end in gunfire, and no one ever stormed from the room or from the ship after stealing all of the money or all of the food.

Edward had even gone shopping by herself once. She'd bought a nice, colorful sweater without wondering what Faye would say about it. She'd simply seen the cloth and noticed that she liked it, so she bought it.

Spike chuckled, and Edward was startled out of her melancholy.

"People come and people go," Spike told Edward. "You're just more attached to some of them."

"Do you think Faye will come back?" Edward asked.

"Who knows with that woman?" Spike answered.

Edward grinned. "I bet when she wakes up, she can't find us. She can't find us, and we can't find her. It will be like hide-and-seek."

"Faye _does_ have a weakness for games," Spike chuckled. He was glad to see a hint of the old carefree Edward, and he wondered if making her happy was really as simple as talking to her a bit. Talking only irritated Faye, and Jet always seemed to talk in circles, which in turn irritated Spike.

Spike leaned back in his chair and watched as Edward began to kick her feet a little before putting out her only half smoked cigarette.

"Do you think _we_ could go for a bounty soon?" Edward asked.

"Getting bored?" Spike asked.

"A little," Edward admitted. "That medical stuff is interesting and all, but until the hospital sends me any blueprints, there's nothing for me to do. I'm ready for an adventure."

Edward's smile didn't light up the room, as it usually did, and her eyes were still turned downwards, but Spike thought she still looked young as she unfolded and refolded her napkin into different shapes. She eavesdropped on the conversations around them and watched the other bar patrons with interest.

Spike watched Edward, and the thought occurred to him that for the first time, she really looked like someone who belonged on the Bebop.

* * *

That evening, Spike found a man he liked drinking with. He stayed at the bar until it closed, and by then he was good and drunk. Edward tried settling him behind the driver's seat in his _Swordfish_, but he was too tall to fit. Grumbling, Edward pushed the drivers seat as far back as it would go before distributing him in the seat and sitting between his legs to drive.

"You sure about this?" Spike asked, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes against the spinning stars.

"Of course. You _have_ seen me operate a ship before," Edward reminded him, laughing. However, she pointedly forgot to mention that she had only ever operated a ship with her remote control, and she had yet to try driving a ship manually.

Spike may have remembered this if he weren't drunk, but as it was he was falling asleep in his seat.

"Alright," Edward mumbled as she put a finger over one of the dashboard buttons. "Eanie, meanie, miney, moe-"

Her finger just happened to fall over the ignition, and Edward turned to dig the keys out of Spike's pocket. She pushed the keys into the ignition, and the ship roared to life.

Edward grinned at the ships vibrations beneath her. She had felt the vibrations before, of course, but they were different when she was in the driver's seat.

She grinned. "Let's see what I can get this thing to do." Once again placing a finger over one of the consul's buttons, she began, "Eanie, meanie, miney, moe-"

The button she pushed turned on the _Swordfish_'s laser cannon.

"Oops," she giggled, pressing the button to turn it off. She pushed the next button, and the wings unfurled for takeoff.

Flying the starship wasn't difficult. At least, it wasn't difficult so far as getting it off the ground and steering it in a strait line. There was always a strange pull, though, that didn't allow the plane to turn quite like Edward wanted it to and if she didn't know better, she would think there was an air current that was making the ship's nose wobble. She made several attempts to straiten the ship and adjust its flight, but she was unable to maneuver it properly.

"What's wrong with your ship?" Edward asked as the ship dragged on yet another turn.

"Nothin's wrong," Spike sighed, his eyes still closed. "You just need the right hand to steer it properly. The _Swordfish_ may be old, but – she's a good ship. Good ships need good hands."

Edward looked down at her right hand. She immediately recognized that her hand was a little small for the plane's yoke, and the plastic was a little smooth under her palm.

Doubt began to tickle against Edward's consciousness. It was strange, because _doubt_ was something she had very little experience with. She had never had reason to question herself, and she had always been confident in her ability to just _know_ how to do something. However, this was _clearly_ Spike's ship, and Edward suddenly understood why he flew it so well: It was _his_. The ship was his, just like the Tomato was hers, and the Bebop was Jet's, and that stupid hair band had been Faye's.

_The hair band may be Faye's, but it didn't look bad on me. That means I can fly the _Swordfish_, too_, Edward thought to herself.

She had to adjust her grip on the yoke, and it was a little uncomfortable, but the star ship's flight evened out and became smooth. With the position of her hands corrected, Edward could easily fly the ship, and it was fun.

But after she had arrived at the Bebop and landed the plane, Edward was relieved to climb from the cockpit. Piloting the ship had been fun, but it also served to remind her that there were some places she didn't belong.

_I belong here, though_, she thought as Spike's arm was thrown around her shoulders. Edward took some of his weight and helped him stumble towards the commons area. The man fought to keep his eyes open, and he stumbled, but Ed only noticed how nicely she fit into his side. He leaned against her, and Edward's heart rose when she recognized that she could carry his weight. _It's easy, _she thought.

When they reached the common area, Edward helped Spike lie on the couch, and she leaned over him as his eyes closed and he fell asleep. The night had been wonderful, she decided. Spending time with Spike had been wonderful.

But then, she went back to Faye's room, which was now her room, and she recalled her earlier realization: There were some places she didn't belong. She felt bad for taking over Faye's room, for making it look like something it wasn't supposed to be. There were still clothes and makeup scattered around, sure, but they looked out of place next to Edward's electronics, and Ein looked out of place resting on Faye's purple and yellow bedspread.

Maybe if the message had flashed across Edward's tomato at some other time, when she was having some other thoughts, she would have reacted differently.

When her eyes rested on the computer, she recognized the flashing red and orange icon which indicated that someone had attempted to connect to her Tomato and failed. At first, she assumed that someone was trying to hack the computer and trace Radical Edward, which of course was impossible for anyone who really wanted to do Radical Edward harm. However, when she looked into the message's encryptions, Edward realized that the communication hadn't failed because it was unfriendly, but because the other computer's connection to cyberspace hadn't been strong enough and was disconnected mid-message.

Edward corrected this problem easily with a few quick keystrokes across the keyboard. She traced the connection to – Earth. Earth was trying to communicate with her. The ISSP? One of her old hacking buddies? _Vicious_?

When Edward successfully reestablished a connection with the other computer, a clear message appeared on her screen.

_I've heard a few rumors about you_, the message read._ You haven't been getting into trouble, have you? You know, a friend told me about a good place to go if you need to lie low for a while._

When Edward researched the origin of the few short sentences, she found that the message was sent from the computer of a hacker, but not from anyone especially talented or noteworthy. The computer belonged to some no-name who sometimes did work for the ISSP, who sometimes did work for the news stations, and who was currently working for _Luke Cutter_.

Quickly, effortlessly, Edward opened a communication channel between the computers. The middle-aged man who appeared on the monitor blinked dumbly at her.

"Who-" he asked as he again blinked and adjusted the round glasses perched on the end of his nose. "How did you-?"

"Move," came the low, simple command from off screen. The man stumbled away from the monitor, and his face was replaced by Vicious'.

"I hear you've been busy," Vicious said by way of greeting. "You've gone from helping out the friend of a friend to saving the solar system. Interesting ambitions, Edward."

Edward grinned at the man. His appearance was less than pristine, as it was the last time she spoke to him. His hair had been shaved, but it was already growing out again. It hung in limp curls around his ears and neck, and without a curtain of hair to hide his features, the sharp contours of his face were clear. His clothing was old and patched, and there were smudges of dirt on his cheek. He looked good, though. Like Spike, he looked alive.

"Things going well for you in sector seventy-two?" Edward asked.

"I suppose," Vicious answered. "It's boring work, though. People here lack intelligence and innovation. This idiot," he snarled to the middle-aged hacker who stood off camera, "is all there is by way of off-planet communication in this whole damn place."

"Really?" Edward asked, her eyes wide. "Some of the best hackers in the solar system are on Earth."

"Well they aren't on this part of Earth," Vicious said, his scowl deepening.

Then, Vicious' eyes flickered. Edward realized that she now had his full attention, where before his mind had been focused on other matters while he spoke to her. His gray eyes were suddenly intent, and they were all Edward noticed of his expression.

"Who's Billy Hypner? What have you gotten yourself into, Ed?"

Edward frowned. "Billy Hypner's old news," she answered slowly. "That happened months ago." She shouldn't have been surprised that it took so long for the news to reach Vicious, though, considering the fact that he was literally living under a bunch of rocks. "Faye's still hurt, though. Her condition's stable, I guess, but she hasn't… There hasn't been any change."

"My offer stands," Vicious said bluntly. "If you need a place, you can come here."

Edward opened her mouth to decline, but from the corner of her eye she caught sight of the room that wasn't hers and wasn't Faye's, and an, "All right," slipped out instead.

* * *

It was pure coincidence that the Bebop was just traveling past Earth, and it wasn't difficult to bum a ride from a passing star ship.

She'd left a note: _Gone to Earth. Back in a few._ When she left it on a low table in the common area, she'd first stared at the words, and then she'd stared at Spike, who still lay unconscious on the couch. She wondered if she really wanted to leave, if she was really _that_ uncomfortable on the Bebop.

But Edward had never been uncomfortable anywhere before, and the knowledge that she was uncomfortable made her even more uneasy. Maybe she needed something else to think of, other than Faye, and she wouldn't find what she needed on the Bebop.

_I'll be back_, she promised.

Strange, that she was compelled to make the promise. Whenever she left a place, she never thought of returning to it. It was coincidence that she found her way back to the Bebop whenever things were beginning to get boring. It was coincidence that the Bebop was the place she now had a connection to.

As Edward took buses and underground trains to sector seventy-two, she realized how uninterested she was with the trip. She rarely traveled with a destination in mind. She traveled for the sake of the adventure, for something fun and exciting to do. Hopping trains and meeting new people on buses wasn't so fun when there was a clear destination in mind.

And where was she going _to_, exactly? Did she leave the Bebop to go to Earth? To sector seventy-two? To Vicious?

Edward realized it didn't matter. It was chance that she had somewhere to go and that there was someone to meet her when she got there. What really mattered was the strange feeling which settled in her stomach when she realized she hadn't left at all.

She had run.

**A/N: And bam! Just like that, Vicious is back! Of course, we all knew he'd be making an appearance again. He isn't the type of person to be dropped off at Earth and then swept from the story. Still, I hadn't planned to get him involved with the story again for a little longer, and with this earlier reintroduction, his part has changed a little. **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! There was even a little Spike-Edward! That's right, they've now actually touched (even if it was only to keep standing upright, and even if Edward left the ship immediately afterwords). But hey, there's more to come, and even if Spike won't be in the next couple of chapters, Vicious will be, and things always get a little crazy when Vicious is involved, right?**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and tell me what you think.  
**


	16. Session 16

Edward sighed when she saw Vicious, and then she smiled.

The man had changed. He stood a little straighter, and his expression was a little less severe. His clothes were messy, and the tall boots he wore were scuffed. The imperfection made him look a little wild and untamed.

And somehow, it made him look more human.

What Edward really liked, though, what made her really smile when she saw him, was his eyes. They were exactly as she remembered them: dark, despite their light huge. They were like Spike's.

"You're taller," was his comment on the change in Edward.

"Taller, maybe," Edward pouted as she glanced down at her chest and hips. "I don't seem to have grown where it counts, though."

"You've been spending too much time with perverts," Vicious told her, his lips twisting into a leer.

"So have you," Edward answered, peering at the men who stood at weary attention behind Vicious. The guides who had accompanied her through the caves and took her to Vicious had been less than polite, and that was saying something for a girl who spent a good amount of her time in seedy bars and pool halls. "How'd you find your way to such a bad neighborhood?"

Edward hadn't been truly surprised when she reached sector seventy-two and discovered that Vicious had found his place among the territory wars.

"It's as good a neighborhood as any other," was his cool response.

Despite his claim, Vicious took Edward to the den-city, where he still kept an apartment under the name of Luce Cutter. Given, he had moved out of the cheep apartment located against one of the bearing walls of the city and into a high-end apartment in one of the center structures. The apartment was nice, but sparse, decorated in white and blue with little furniture to speak of. Edward didn't think Vicious spent much time there, probably only appearing in the den-city for a good meal and a shower from time-to-time.

"And I guess I was just tired of it," Edward finished as they were taking off their muddy boots in the front entryway. "Everything I did and everywhere I looked reminded me of Faye. I just need a little time away."

"And what are the others doing?" Vicious asked as he discarded his filthy coat and went to the kitchen to wash his hands.

"Jet works all the time. Faye's medical bills are huge, and even after I start doing work on the hospital's equipment we'll be scrambling to find money." Edward pulled herself onto the counter beside Vicious and studied him closely as she said, "Spike just sleeps a lot. He's helped Jet with a few bounties, and he's taken me out a few times, but otherwise he isn't concerned. I get the impression he's lost friends before."

As she told Vicious about Spike, the man didn't pause in his task. He kept his eyes on his hands as he meticulously cleaned them of earth and gunpowder. At Edward's last statement, though, his lips twisted into a hollow smile.

Vicious took a towel from a hook by the sink, and Edward watched as he dried his hands. The towel picked up mud from his wrists and forearms but Vicious didn't seem to notice as the cloth smeared dirt across his newly washed hands.

"Is that what Faye is to Spike?" Vicious asked. "A _friend_?"

Edward's gaze flickered from Vicious' hands to his dark eyes and his mean grin.

"Yes," Edward said clearly, confidently.

"If that's what you'd like to believe," Vicious answered with a shrug.

Edward rolled her eyes at the man's attempt to stir up trouble. His business was with her, but even then Vicious couldn't keep from trying to make things difficult for Spike.

"Hush," Edward demanded, kicking her bare heels against the cabinet drawers. "You should stick to what you know and leave things like friendship and human bonds to the people capable of forming them."

"What do you think it is I know, then?" Vicious asked, taking a few silent steps towards Edward.

Her face flushed a little and her heart began to speed when his hands settled against the counter on either side of her legs, and he came close enough for his chest to tilt over her bent knees and slightly swinging feet.

"You know about syndicates and territory wars," Edward told him. Then, her feet going still and the head draining from her face, she said, "And apparently you know something about Titan, as well."

"Titan," Vicious chuckled darkly. "I know about Titan, yes. Do you?"

He was close enough that his breath brushed against Edward's cheeks and hair, but the movement felt cold, and Vicious' hands on the counter were clenched into fists. He was studying her closely, his eyes boring into hers and the corner of his lip twisting in distaste.

Finally, Edward shrugged. "Not much," she admitted. "I need to know more. If I want to help Faye…"

"What is it you've already got?" Vicious asked.

"Like I said, not much. I know that what I'm looking for was created there, and that you're the one who stole it for the Red Dragons, and that… It's dangerous."

"_It's dangerous_," Vicious mocked. "Little girls like you don't know the meaning of dangerous. If you did, you wouldn't be a bounty hunter. You wouldn't hang out with people named Spike Spiegel or Vicious, and you wouldn't ask about something like Titan."

Edward only heard his warning about hanging around people like Spike. "But that would be _boring_," she told him.

Vicious gave a light huff, something too cold to be humor, but too dignified to be a snort of indignation. The air passed across Edward's jaw this time.

"Alright," Vicious said quietly. "Let's make a deal. You help me, and I'll help you."

Edward remembered the name she had given to Vicious, and she wondered if making deals with the devil was supposed to be so thrilling.

* * *

Vicious stayed in the den-city only long enough to get cleaned up and have dinner with Edward in a cramped, windowless café on the second floor of his building. Left in the man's apartment, Edward enjoyed the den-city. She had visited many underground cities on Earth, but none were as large or chaotic as the den-cities in sector seventy-two. There were people crammed into every corner, and Edward wondered how Vicious' apartment was so spacious and empty when the room at the end of his hall functioned as a bar, a laundry mat, and also a pet shop which sold small alligators.

On one of the lower levels, Edward made friends with a young girl who only spoke in disjointed dead-Latin, and Ed spent her days modifying stolen electronics in the apartment despite an undercover ISSP detective who was subleasing one of the rooms.

One evening while sitting at the bar, Edward bought an alligator instead of a drink, and she named him Tide.

During a visit from Vicious, he took her to his favorite haunt.

"Guns are savage," he told her as he lifted a sword from the shop's primary display. Edward hovered at his shoulder, watching as the man eyed the long blade and adjusted his grip to its weight. "Have you ever seen a katana, Edward?"

"Only in pawn shops," she answered.

The man nodded. "You'd be surprised at the quality of pawned swords. They're usually antiques and artfully crafted. These weren't made by true tradesmen, and they'd be useless as a weapon in battle, but aren't they beautiful?"

"I suppose," Edward answered as she glanced at swords, knives, and throwing needles which lined the walls and sat piled in cabinets. Everything was sharp, and she thought Vicious was the only person who wouldn't be cut on any of the edges in the shop.

When they returned to the apartment, Vicious blanched when he discovered that his rarely used bedroom had been converted into a habitat for an alligator, and he latter scared away the dead-Latin speaking girl when he answered her knock at the front door.

"I should have known you'd make everything a mess," he snarled after slamming the door on the retreating child's back.

"It wasn't me," Edward answered as she glanced at the mud smudged across the white carpet of the living room. "It's from the equipment you keep sending. Where do you find that junk? Do you dig it up along with the minerals you're after?"

"You could say we find it from the trash," he told her coolly. Edward blinked at the bite in his tone, wondering why his words carried such distaste. Then, Edward realized _trash_ referred to enemy organizations in the territory conflicts.

"You've really found a place here, then," Edward told him, sliding into a seat on a narrow chair in the living area.

"What?" Vicious snapped as he turned his gaze from the kitchen, where the remains of Edward's last attempt at cooking dinner was left soaking in cleaning solution. It would be a couple more hours before the chemicals loosened the debris so she could actually clean the counters and floor.

Edward shrugged, unsure how to explain. "I don't know… You seem attached to this place," she said, a little frustrated at her inability to word what she saw in Vicious when he spoke about his involvement in the territory wars.

"Attached?" he sneered. "No. I only have a few investments in the area."

"For you it's the same thing," Edward told him with a cheeky smile. Then, her smile almost immediately vanished, and she said, "I suppose I'm glad, though. Even you need to be invested in something. You should have seen Spike… well, before. He didn't seem to be invested in anything, and he didn't belong anywhere."

"Of course not," Vicious sneered, sliding his hands into his pockets and cocking his chin forward in distain. "He abandoned his _investments_ to chase tail, and he didn't even have a place with _her_."

"Really?" Edward asked, watching Vicious. She didn't understand what he was talking about. Edward knew Julia's name, and she had seen Spike's reaction when the word was spoken. Spike had seemed _very_ invested in the woman, and Edward wondered what _investments_ there were to abandon when he cared so deeply for Julia.

It was a moment before Edward realized that maybe she didn't understand, but Vicious was incapable of feeling the emotions required to ever comprehend. She could talk to Vicious all she wanted, but he wouldn't help her make out Spike or his past.

Vicious seemed to come to a similar conclusion, because he exhaled and his shoulders fell forward. "You're just a little girl," he told her.

"Charlie thinks so, too," Edward said with a pout.

When Vicious didn't answer, she met his eyes, and what she saw made her uneasy. His eyes were a clear, bright gray.

"Stop it," Edward demanded.

Vicious blinked and came back to himself. His eyes dulled, and when he saw Edward's deep frown, he gave a frown of his own.

"I'm sorry," he said. The apology was quiet and flat, and Edward could see his hands tightening into fists where they still rested in his pockets.

"It's alright," Edward answered just as quietly. She cast her gaze to the floor and played with the edge of her skirt. Her imagination was working a mile a minuet, processing the conversation, Vicious' words and his tone. She wondered what it meant when he looked at her like that. She wondered what it meant when he _apologized _for it.

She kept her eyes down as Vicious ambled to a room near the back of the apartment, and she didn't move from her position until Vicious said, "Edward," the command sharp and clear in his tone. She looked up and deftly caught the sheathed katana Vicious tossed towards her.

"You have good reflexes," he said. "You could learn quickly."

He left then, without showering or having a meal in the den-city, with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained forward.

Edward took the katana with her when she went to the apartment downstairs, and the undercover ISSP cop tried to show her how to properly hold the weapon. He had as much experience with katanas as she did, though, and his instruction was based off of old Earth movies he'd seen many years ago. His attempts were enthusiastic, and his excitement of the weapon eventually transferred to Edward. However, the katana never left its sheath and their "practice" resembled a game more than a lesson in sword fighting.

**A/N : Sorry about the long upload - I had a lot written for the story, but I decided I needed to go back and watch some Cowboy Bebop before rewriting the next part of the story. I finally have everything going in the right direction, though, and I'm happy with it. This chaper and the next couple are a kind of interlude with Edward and Vicious. It may seem like I'm taking this in a wierd direction and getting a little off track (it certainly seemed that way to me for a while) - but I know what I'm doin here. I promis. :) Also, I apologize for any mistakes. I'm in Thailand working from an ancient computer where the programs are all written in a strange language, and I wasn't able to format the chapter like I usually do. I feel crippled without spell check. : / **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Review!**


	17. Session 17

Vicious returned a week latter with a fresh batch of equipment for Edward to work on. When they first met eyes, they only looked at each other for a moment, then a smile appeared on Edward's lips. Her concern after their previous encounter had faded, and they were once again able to interact easily. Or as easily as interacting with Vicious could be.

They went to a bar on the top floor of the building. The place had class, and Vicious was required to take a shower and wear slacks and Edward couldn't wear one of Faye's dresses, having to buy something which properly fit her instead. The bar stools they sat on were leather with polished oak backs, and there weren't any Laundromats or alligator cages on the far side of the room. Instead, the bar's alligator lounged in a large terrarium, a display elegantly situated near the entrance. A pianist sat at the far side of the room tapping gentle, smooth notes across the keys.

It was unlike any bar Spike had ever taken Edward to, yet Vicious ordered the same drink Spike always got, and he sat on his chair situated in a cool, relaxed pose. For a moment, Spike's ghost appeared in the seat beside Vicious, the dark haired man leaning forward against the bar with his hand on a glass of scotch.

"I'll have information for you by next week," Vicious announced as he leaned back in his chair.

"You're getting close, then?" Edward asked.

"Naturally," he responded. "His soldiers are scrambling to find purchase, and his allies are pulling away. There will be mutiny, soon, and he'll be easy picking."

Edward nodded. "Get him in the city and I'll do the rest."

"The rest," Vicious repeated mockingly. "You believe you can handle it?"

"Well, yeah," Edward huffed. "I'm not a kid, and I know what to do. Besides, it sounds like you'll have done most of the work. He'll be beaten down. He won't know what hit him."

"He'll figure it out soon enough," Vicious warned. "That's when you'll have to deal with him."

"I can handle it," Edward repeated.

"So you'll help me with my problem, and I'll help you with yours. And once you have what you need, then what?"

"I'll give Charlie a call-

"Don't give me his name," Vicious demanded harshly. "I won't give you the information at all if you're going to be stupid about this, Edward."

"Right," Edward answered quietly. No one had ever insinuated she was unintelligent before, but she understood. She understood that Vicious was afraid. It wasn't a clear fear, or a weakness of any kind. Vicious' fear felt more like a threat, something ominous. It made Edward feel as if she really _didn__'__t_ understand what she was doing, what she was getting herself into. The discretion required for such a delicate operation was something Edward had no experience with.

Finally, she told Vicious, "Then… once I have what I need, I suppose I'll continue to gather more information."

He nodded. "Good."

"And you? Once you have what you need, what will you do?"

"Once I have what I need? I have nothing that I need. This will only be a step towards gaining what I want."

"Right," Edward sighed. War and politics were something she didn't understand, and she was comfortable keeping it that way. That's why Charlie was worming his way into Titan, and not her.

They spent the rest of the evening enjoying drinks and music. Edward chattered with the people around her, pleased that the patrons of the high class bar were just as interesting as those she found in lower quality establishments. Everyone in the den-city seemed to share an organized kind of madness, a frame of mind cultivated by living in the cramped underground for years on end. The people she spoke with weren't as free spirited as she would like, and they did well at suppressing their madness or hiding it, but she was able to draw it from them all the same.

Vicious drank his scotch slowly, keeping his eyes and expression diverted from Edward and whatever company she kept. But his chair was situated close to hers, and there was no mistaking the arm he sometimes kept draped across the back of her seat.

* * *

Something happened while Edward was waiting for word from Vicious.

She let Tide wander the apartment during the day, and the animal slept beside her on the floor while she modified the equipment Vicious gave her. It was a companionship developed during previous weeks, but now her gaze sometimes drifted from her work and she wondered if Ein would approve of the reptile.

When she made her way to the apartment downstairs for dinner and a game with the dead-Latin speaking girl, Edward would hear snippets of the ISSP detective's phone conversations. She sometimes recognized his tone of voice, and she would look up from her activity to make sure it wasn't Jet in the other room.

At the bar, while she drank water or milk or tomato juice mixed with spinach extract, she realized she was growing bored of her conversations. People in the den-city were mad, of course, but they were all mad in the same way, and it was no longer fun to explore their eccentricities. Edward was reminded of her time with Spike, how she had spent far more time with him than any of these people, yet she was still unable to truly understand him, and he never became boring.

When Vicious finally sent her a large sealed envelope and word that her target was hiding somewhere in the den-city, Edward was relieved, because that meant she could leave.

The ISSP detective was investigating illegal alligator smuggling and trade, but he was happy to give up an afternoon of his investigation in order to join Edward for _her_ investigation. Of course, it helped that she offered to go halvsies with him on the catch.

That morning, she cleaned Vicious' apartment to the best of her abilities (somehow, it was the cleaning solution which left the carpet stained rather than the mud), she gathered her belongings in a backpack, balanced her Tomato on her head, and she found a pretty pink and orange tether for Tide. She left a hastily scribbled note on the kitchen counter in which she thanked Vicious for the use of his apartment and alerted him to the present she left for him in his room. Then, she locked the apartment door behind her and started out.

The detective gave a hopeless sigh when he saw the small alligator scrambling to keep up with Edward's long, wobbly strides, but only asked, "What's the plan?"

"There isn't much of one, really," she answered. "First we have to find the guy."

She found the man in the second place she searched. She should have known to search Vicious' old apartment first, but she momentarily forgot how calculating and manipulative the man could be. It was kind of him to deliver the bounty-head in such a nicely wrapped package.

Vicious' predictions had been true. The man's followers had revolted against him. Edward and the detective wandered into the apartment to find the man attending to some minor but fresh wounds. Vicious was also correct in his assumption that the man would react badly after he realized just who he had been captured by and for what purpose.

"You're not mercenaries," the man snarled when he realized where he was being taken. "You're goddamn bounty hunters!"

Edward was glad she'd asked the ISSP detective to accompany her, because although capturing the man was as simple as tearing apart government encryption codes, Edward only had a gun to use in order to subdue the man. The detective had a taser, though, and was able to give the guy a good shock to quiet him down.

They took the man to a local police station in sector seventy-two, which was also the station the detective worked from.

It was rare that bounties-heads were caught from the soldier population, and an excited buzz filled the station as plans were made to deport the criminal from Earth and to the planet where his crimes had been committed. The ISSP detective Edward had partnered up with was being offered a vacation from his alligator assignment as well as promotion, and the station chief kept shaking Edward's hand.

"_Finally_," the police chief sighed. "We'll have good publicity on the news stations for once, and we can write reports about something other than lack of resources and animal trade operations."

Edward's eyes were on the captured criminal though, who had recovered from his taser injury and had gone wild in his jail cell. He would have to be sedated for his transportation from Earth.

She found it odd that the man had reacted more calmly to the threat of murder and mercenaries than the threat of trial and imprisonment.

After reports had been written and word sent out that a major bounty-head had been extracted from sector seventy-two, Edward piled Tide into her arms (the poor thing was tired from waddling after her all day), and the pair left sector seventy-two.

* * *

The sun felt good on her skin. Tide liked it too, as the alligator had been able to fall asleep under the warm rays regardless of its uncomfortable position tied to the flat top of Edward's backpack.

The mechanic wearily eyed the sleeping reptile. The scruffy man's eyes drifted from Edward's face to the alligator, and there were awkward pauses in his speech despite his valiant attempt to ignore Edward's appearance and just finish the damn sell. And finish it he wanted to do. The girl had been sleeping on a grassy patch of land in front of his shop for the past three days, and between the alligator and the katana which sometimes made an appearance from its place inside her pack, customers were turning away from his door more often than walking through it.

As a large sum of money passed from the girl's hands to his, a sigh whooshed from the mechanic's lips.

"Alright, that's done then," he said. Quickly, he gathered the ignition key, retrieved the ship's ownership papers, and he wrote up a receipt and proof of ownership transference.

The star ship was beautiful (or at least Edward thought so). It wasn't big (she wanted a ship larger than Jet's _Hammerhead_), or fast (she wanted to look at Spike's _Swordfish_ from the rearview windows), or even swift (it would never maneuver as sharply as Faye's _Red__Tail_), but the _Sailfin_ was impressive in its own right. The ship's nose was a little narrow, but with a gentle slope, the ship's body widened and arched before the top made a sharp downward angle and the bottom slowly angled up until the two mettle shells almost connected. Another smooth dip drove the ship's tail downwards, so that ship's primary rudder was positioned a bit below and even with the ship's main body. The ship had a number of ventral fins, as well as a few small, flat, external engines, but the protruding parts were difficult to distinguish without changing angle.

This was because of the _Sailfin_'s color. It had once been a soothing brown, but age and ware had given the plane strange discolored spots. Then, numerous cracks had begun to appear in the paint, giving the impression of old broken glass or cracked, dry mud.

The ship's elegant curves, narrow lines, and the thin rudder and ventral fins gave the plane a delicate look, and the lines of cracked paint only emphasized this impression. However, Edward knew better. The ship's shell wasn't made of metal, but of carbon-fiber-reinforced-polymer. As a result, the _Sailfin_ was light and incredibly tough.

Then, there was the star-ship's electronics system. The electronics themselves were a little outdated, but the position of the star tracker next to the Engine-Vehicle interface so they could share energy instead of having separate, wasteful lines – or when they put the stop-start transients _on__top_ of the turbopump – or how life support systems were made accessible from the cockpit instead of being buried beneath hard to reach hatches and tangled wires at the back of the ship! – Edward recognized the genius, and she could appreciate how easily she could modify or replace the existing systems without having to also redesign the entire ship.

With a pleased sigh, Edward gave the _Sailfin_ one more glance-over before crying, "Let's go, Tide!" and marching towards the ship.

Because the ship's tail was positioned so low, the ships body was a little high off the ground, but Edward easily leaped up, took hold of the bottom edge of the open entrance, and pulled herself into the ship.

"Everything look alright?" the mechanic called to Edward. "Any questions about the instruments or how to pilot?"

"I think I can figure it out!" Edward answered.

First, the man's eyes widened at her response. Then, as he watched the girl untie the alligator from its place on top of her bag and strap it into a seat, the color drained from his face. Yes, the girl's presence was bad for business, but she _was_ just a girl, and he considered maybe inviting her to stick around for a bit longer, just until he knew she could properly pilot a star-ship.

However, within moments, the girl was strapped into her seat. The mechanic watched in horror as she pointed a finger at the controls and chanted, "Eenie, meanie, miney, moe-"

The mechanic stepped forward, intending to call out to the girl, to stop her, to keep her from _killing__herself_, but his voice was drowned out by the roar of the ignition and he was pushed backwards by a gale created by turning engines.

Within moments, the ship was alive, the base ignition procedures were complete, and the ship was sealed, all at random and in what appeared to be perfect order.

The mechanic cursed as the star-ship began to pull away from Earth before he could blink the dust and hard wind from his eyes.


	18. Session 18

"I'm baaack!" Edward sang as she hopped out of her newly acquired star-ship. No one was there to answer, of course, but the echo of her voice in the hanger was satisfying.

Ein was the first to greet her, the small dog barking wildly as he barreled towards her. Edward lifted the dog from the ground, then tossed him in the air and caught him a few times. She laughed as he yipped, and she squeezed the dog in a hug.

"I've brought souvenirs!" she told the dog. "I even got you a pet!"

"Edward!" Jet boomed as he made his way into the hanger.

Edward didn't know that she'd missed the man so much until she saw him. She didn't know how the man felt about her disappearance; he could have been angry, or sad, or disappointed, or worried, or whatever. Whenever Faye returned after an abrupt or mistimed departure, Jet either fought with her or gave her the cold shoulder. When Edward returned, he may have intended to chew her out in a similar fashion, except that when she saw him, Edward gave Jet a face-splitting grin before going towards him at a run and wrapping him in a hug, Ein crushed between them.

"You missed everything!" Edward told the man as she stood away from him.

"I guess I did," Jet answered as he eyed the garish star-ship which now sat cooling in his hanger.

"Ah, a souvenir," Spike murmured as he ambled into the hanger, eyeing the star ship. Glancing to Edward, he gave her a grin and said, "Hey, kid. You get a good deal for the ship?"

"You bet! I don't think the owner understood what that baby is made of, and he sold it for way less than what it's worth!"

"Where'd you get the money for it?" Jet asked suspiciously.

"A bounty. You remember Hutch Varlet?" Edward asked.

Jet's eyes widened at the memory of their failed bounty. "You _caught_ him?"

"Nah," Edward said, shaking her head. "Not him. It was one of his buddies, though." Sheepishly, she glanced at the _Sailfin_. "He had a lot of money on his head, but I had a partner for the catch who received half the bounty, and then my _Sailfin_ ate up most of what I earned. There's still a bit left, though."

"Enough to get some new paint for that thing?" Jet asked.

"Hey! That thing is _beautiful_-"

"Whatever you call it, it needs new paint," Jet grumbled as he tossed a heavy arm across Edward's shoulders and began leading her into the Bebop.

"Yeah, alright," Edward reluctantly agreed.

"Will there be enough money to get some new parts for the Bebop?" Spike asked as he trailed behind the two.

"Sure," Edward answered, glancing back at him. "Why, what's happened?"

Edward knew it wouldn't be difficult to find the Bebop and catch up with the guys, but she was honestly surprised after she exited Earth's atmosphere and ran a quick search on her computer only to find that the Bebop was still positioned at a hyperspace gate near Earth. It was fun to think they were waiting there for her, but Edward knew better. They didn't have the time or the money to sit around waiting for her return.

"Ah, the girl's just getting old," Jet answered as he absently glanced around the narrow hall they were walking though. "The hyborlaters malfunctioned while we were trying to adjust the atmospheric conditions inside the ship. It's nothing big, but something could get shaken up if we go into hyperspace with displaced parts, and it would be nasty."

Edward gave a dismissive wave. "We've got the money for a fix-up, easy. Oh! And has the hospital sent anything? I was supposed to get the blue prints by now, but there's nothing new on my computer."

Jet nodded. "We got a shipment of blueprints a couple of days ago. Will you be able to read them?"

Edward shrugged. "As long as there's a make and model number on the pages, I'll be able to find what I need somewhere in cyberspace. But what about Faye? Have they said anything about her?"

Jet shook his head. "Only that she continues to stay stabilized."

"Stabilized," Edward grumbled. "I don't want to hear how she's stabilized. I want to hear she's awake and flipping off doctors!"

Jet gave her shoulder a heavy pat. "Personally, I kind of enjoy hearing that she's stable. Before, she was as unstable as a woman could get."

Spike let out a breathy _ha_ in humor, and even though Edward elbowed Jet for the comment, she smiled a little. Hearing Jet and Spike talking trash on Faye almost made it seem like nothing was wrong with the woman, that she was only in the other room and she would soon come storming in to defend herself.

Edward knew it wasn't true. Faye wasn't okay, and she hadn't somehow returned to the ship while Edward was gone. However, after being away, it was easier to pretend, and when Edward stopped pretending for a few moments, the truth was easier to face. After all, for a few weeks, Edward hadn't had Jet or Ein or Spike, but they had reappeared. They had come back. Maybe Faye would, too.

* * *

They had dinner together. Edward tried showing off her newly acquired cooking skills, but it was revealed that making a mess of the kitchen and then eating cereal with powdered milk wasn't considered a skill by most. Spike wisely stayed out of immediate danger, but Jet made Edward promise to keep out of the kitchen while he went to shower.

"I'll make noodles again tonight," Jet grumbled as he stiffly walked towards his shower. He tried not to further aggravate the greenish-purple powder which clung to his clothes or the semi-frozen vegetables which threatened to littler the floor if he so much as twitched in the wrong way.

Spike sat on the couch in the common area wearing a large grin as he glanced from the retreating mess which was Jet to Edward, who wasn't mussed at all. Apparently, the only true talent she had in the kitchen was in getting everything messy except for herself.

Banned from the kitchen, Edward made herself comfortable next to Spike on the couch, propping her bare feet on the coffee table and encouraging Ein to sit on her lap.

"Feel better, now?" Spike asked after she was comfortable.

"Much," Edward replied with a sigh.


	19. Session 19

Ceres was a satellite used for making water and growing living organisms, so the air there was thick and moist. Edward liked the way smoke curled from her cigarette in the heavy atmosphere, and she sat under street lamps so she could better see the rings and wisps float upward towards the night sky.

"Get out of the street, Ed," Jet grumbled as he made his way out of the tavern and began to march towards the Bebop. "Someone will run you over."

"Really?" Edward asked, even though she didn't move from her spot on the pavement. "I didn't think the people here were as rude as that."

Besides, the town was small, and the people were poor. The residents only had to walk to get where they needed to go. Then, there were no cars to drive, and therefore no cars to run people over with.

Spike seemed to share Edward's opinion, because he sat on the curb next to her, his legs stretched into the street.

"No luck?" she asked Spike, since Jet had already disappeared down the street and into the thick, muggy dark.

"How could you tell?" Spike muttered as he lit a cigarette of his own. "This guy's a ghost. No one knows who he is or what exactly he did to earn himself a 15 million woolong bounty. I take it you ran into the same problem?"

She had. Edward's Tomato sat next to her in the street, abandoned there after she was unable to find any information on the guy other than what was provided in the bounty bulletin. He didn't exist in any records, on any planet, in any mainframe. He was only a picture worth 15 million woolongs.

"What a pain," Spike groaned, rubbing the palm of his hand over his eyes.

Over the previous month, Edward had made some profit from her work on the medical equipment. However, most of the money went towards Faye, and the Bebop was once again scraping for cash. The high price bounty had come at a fortunate time, when the ship was in a fortunate location. Edward wondered if other cowboys would even show up to search for the guy when his stomping grounds were so out of the way.

Not many captains braved flying the asteroid belt, and while Ceres was ideal for manufacturing water and organisms, those weren't resources which made much money on their own. It was the refineries and breeders where the resources were sent which made profits from the planet. Therefore, not many ships passed through the area.

Ceres was a lonely place, and the humid air seemed to amplify the dwarf planet's silence. It was worse than when the Bebop was in deep space, because even then Edward had the comforting vibration of the engine beneath her feet, and electricity hummed through the ship. As she sat in the street, Edward only had Spike and the crackling of a single light over her head. She could even hear the sizzle of tobacco as it lit and burned.

It was an interesting sensation, and Edward tried to like it. But the planet was only eerie.

"I don't like this," Edward stated.

Spike exhaled a long stream of thick smoke, and he turned his eyes to Edward. "No?" he asked.

Edward shook her head. "I can't find him. I can never not find someone.".

Spike chuckled. "This'll be good practice for you. Jet knows his way around a computer, but he's never had your skill. This is the field he and I used to play."

Spike stood, flicking his cigarette into the gutter and brushing dust off his pants. He offered Edward a hand, and she let him pull her up. Glancing at her Tomato, Edward sighed. It appeared that tonight, her trusty companion would be useless to her.

Spike was already walking down the street, into the darkness, after Jet. Edward hurried to catch up with him.

"Do you have your Rudger on you?" Spike asked.

"Sure," Edward answered.

* * *

They left the Bebop on Ceres, taking the _Hammerhead_ and Spike's _Swordfish_ to search for signs of life among the asteroid belt. Jet took a right from Ceres while Spike and Edward went left.

It was a long way from Ceres to the next asteroid, but Spike had Edward alert and keeping her eyes peeled for any rocks drifting through space.

The first asteroid was a misshaped hunk of rock about twenty yards long and only a few yards wide. It was empty.

"Could he really be on one of those?" Edward asked as the _Swordfish_ zoomed past it.

"No. He'll be camped out on a ship. Jet thinks he might be using an asteroid to shield his ship from view, though," Spike said absently. He didn't seem to be searching the vast void of space for the glint of a ship's metal, though. He was more preoccupied by a small meteor zooming by the ship.

"What do you think his bounty's for?" Edward asked.

"For a guy out here? He may have found some pretty valuable minerals to mine. But for a price of 15 million woolongs, Id also have to guess the minerals were dangerous, and the mining operation was dangerous, and maybe he stepped on a few toes while making some sales."

Edward hummed, and she wondered what a guy without a name could do with any money he made.

As they passed two more asteroids, Spike whistled a slow tune and Edward spoke up about any rocks she saw close to the ship. Edward was composing a song about the space rocks to the tune of Spikes whistling when one such rock hit the ship. Spike cursed as the _Swordfish_ began to sputter and falter.

"What does that mean?" Edward asked as Spike sat back in his seat and killed the engine.

"It means we radio Jet and tell him to haul us back."

"A call won't reach him from this distance," Edward pointed out.

"No, but it'll reach the Bebop. He'll find it then. We can limp the _Swordfish_ back towards Ceres in the meantime," Spike told her as he checked over the ship's systems.

When the engine was turned back on, it ran at half capacity, and the ship didn't steer properly. It appeared that one of the ship's rudders had taken most of the damage.

However, while they were flying towards Ceres, Edward and Spike spotted the ship, which they had missed while they were flying in the other direction.

It was him, yet Edward found herself saying "That cant be him."

The ship was a wreck, having crashed into a decent sized asteroid. The spacecraft didn't look too damaged. It was a bit battered, sure, but there weren't any debris, and Edward could see that it was a functioning craft because of some light illuminating its interior. However, the ship was lodged in the asteroid, and it would take a crew to dig it out.

It was also very clear that the ship that been stuck in that asteroid for a long, long time. Rust from the ship had cracked away from the hull and settled on the asteroid, and dust from the asteroid had similarly settled on the ship.

"Were going for it," Spike declared.

Edward made sure her gun was loaded.

As the _Swordfish_ came along side the asteroid lodged ship, Spike tried to make radio contact. There was no reply, but a docking hatch opened near the rear of the ship.

"I think I have an extra biosuit you can wear," Spike told Edward. He retrieved his own suit from under his seat, then opened a hatch near his feet and pulled out his older model for Edward. Elbowing and kneeing each other and the ship's interior, the two struggled into their suits. Edward only kicked one switch while pulling the suit on, and her luck prevailed – the switch only turned off ship's interior lights.

Spike's old suit was too big for Edward. The shoes looked like something a clown would wear, and fabric pooled on her wrists and above the boots. However, Edward had grown tall in the past months, so instead of swallowing her, the suit only made her seem awkward. And in other places – around her hips and upper arms – Edward was almost a little embarrassed by how comfortable the fit was.

After they were prepared, Spike anchored the _Swordfish_ to the asteroid near the other ships open hatch.

"See this switch here?" Spike asked, showing it to Edward. "This will detach the _Swordfish_. If he pulls anything once we're inside, you get in here and press this down. Understand?"

"Not really," Edward answered. "It's _your_ ship. _You_ detach it."

Spike seemed about to argue, but he ended up muttering something about – _kids, dogs and women with attitude_, instead.

They made their way from the _Swordfish, _through outer space, and into the other ship's open hatch. The door closed smoothly behind them, and air flooded the room. An interior door opened and a man stood on the other side of the portal. He was tall, shaven, and wearing a surveyor's uniform. He was about 30 years older than the picture posted with his bounty. His hair was longer, and his skin had lost it's healthy tan. He was paper white with sunken eyes and yellowing teeth. But his nose was the same.

He was their man.

Spike was taking off his helmet and preparing to greet the man when he was shot. When the gun went off, Edward had been taking off her own helmet, and she quickly threw it at the bounty. The helmet hit the man in the chest, hard, and he fell. Edward turned to Spike, who was already on the ground and bleeding.

"My suit," he ground out between clenched teeth. "My fucking suit – I cant leave the ship with a damn hole in my suit."

The bullet had gone into Spike's left shoulder, near the suit's breathing apparatus. Spike was right, the suit wouldn't function in space, and it wouldn't protect him even in the five feet from one ship to the other.

Seeing blood gushing from the wound, Edward pressed the heel of her palm to it in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Spike hissed, but as he jerked his head back and clenched his teeth harder, he also jerked his gun from its place inside the suit's holster. His aim was steady as he pointed it towards their attacker.

But when Edward looked, the man wasn't attacking. He was still sitting on the floor where he fell, his hands braced behind him as he stared at Edward.

"You're just a kid," the man breathed.

"I'm not!" Edward argued. "I turned 18 ages ago!"

"You're just a girl," the man said again.

Edward was tempted to pull her own gun on the man.

"And what do you think you're doing?" She cried. "Why'd you shoot him, you idiot?"

"I know a gunman when I see one," the man said, regaining his voice. He seemed to regain his mind, as well, because he reached towards the gun lying discarded on the floor beside him. With an echoing _clzing!_ Spike shot a bullet and hit the gun, sending the gun spinning several feet into the hallway behind the man.

"Edward!" Spike cried. To Ed, the command was clear, and she launched away from Spike and towards the bounty, who was scrambling to stand. She caught his knees and sent him back to the floor. They scrambled on the dirty metal floor, the man throwing out his knees and elbows, but his punches were weak. Beneath his standard surveyor's uniform, the man was all bone. It only took Edward a single solid punch to leave him gasping, and as he bent inward, she easily twisted his arms behind his back and bound his wrists with the belt of her uniform.

The man bound, Edward hurried away from him, snatching up the discarded gun and placing herself between him and the hall leading further into the ship.

Spike was still sitting propped against the hatch, and he was gasping, trying to even his breathing. Still, he held his aim steady, watching their captured bounty with alert, intent eyes.

The man lay sobbing on the floor, and Edward wondered that he wasn't the one with a bullet in his chest.

"You," Spike said. "What's your name?"

The man continued to sob, but he was struggling to his knees.

"Hey," Edward said wearily, watching as he struggled to stand. "Hey, hey, what are you-?"

With a cry, the man launched from his knees. Instead of going towards Spike or Edward, however, he went headfirst for the wall. The metal rang hollow against his skull, and the sound echoed as he slid to the floor, unconscious.

"Damnit," Spike bit out.

**A/N: It's bee a while, I know. I took a little trip - to Thiland. And by little, I mean I was there for a few months. The beginning of this chapter was modeled after my favorite nights in Thiland, where the air was muggy and I would go sit in the street in front of my house and smoke. Gha, perfect. Of course, it wasn't eerie and silent. I lived next to a highway, so... yeah. But I liked to immagine what it would be like if it was silent. Thus, the next little ark of this tale. Hope you enjoy it. Keep posted for the next chapter, coming soon.**


	20. Session 20

The ship turned out to be a transportation vessel, and it was much larger than it appeared from the outside. The space craft was lodged _really_ deep in the asteroid. Edward wondered if the asteroid had wrapped around the ship on impact.

The vessel still held most of its cargo: plants, fruits, and vegetables. The ship also held its crew. While searching for the medical cabinet, Edward found three skeletons in surveyor uniforms stuffed into a closet.

After Edward retrieved a medical kit, she found her way back to Spike and their bounty. The man was still unconscious and handcuffed to some pipes. His scalp had begun to trickle blood as Edward had dragged him to what appeared to be a dining area, but his bleeding appeared to have stopped.

Edward would take care of him when she was finished with Spike.

Spike eyed her wearily as she helped him out of his suit and shirt. She had to cut off his undershirt.

"Are you sure about this?" Spike asked as Edward cleaned the wound and applied a numbing agent to the area.

"Are you kidding?" Edward asked brightly. "I've seen Jet do this a hundred times!"

"I always had the impression you were more interested in listening to us bicker rather than studying the processes," Spike said dryly.

"Maybe," Edward conceded. "But remember, I work for a hospital now!"

Spike grinned. "You're the equivalent of tech support."

As Edward took a small, shiny scalpel in hand, she glanced up at Spike. He now looked distinctly uneasy.

"Maybe," Edward said as she set the knife's edge in place against his skin. "But I've put some research into what that technology is for. At this point, I probably have a better understanding of human anatomy and medicine than Jet."

"So you can fix up bullet wounds, now?" Spike asked.

"Not quite," Edward told him. "But I can get it started."

Edward dug the scalpel into the wound.

It wasn't deep, which would explain why Spike wasn't passed out or delirious from blood loss – although he_ was_ looking a little pale. The bullet hadn't fractured inside his body, and it slid easily from Spike's shoulder.

But after that, Edward was at a loss. She grabbed some gauze from the first aid and pressed it to the wound to stop the bleeding. But without the blue goop to seal the wound shut-

"You gotta cauterize it."

Edward glanced to the bounty, who was now conscious and watching her from his awkward position lying of the floor. His arm was twisted where he was handcuffed to the pipes – if his arm was strained, the man would only have to sit up to relieve the pressure. Instead, he lay perfectly still in an unnatural position, staring at Edward and Spike.

"Cauterize," Edward repeated, sliding the new word over her tongue. Edward had learned a lot of new words while working on the medical equipment, but _cauterize_ didn't sound like a fun procedure.

"You got to burn the wound closed," the man explained.

Spike didn't seem any more pleased by those words than Edward was, but he nodded. "Add a little more numbing agent-"

Edward did so, gladly.

Surprisingly, cauterizing the wound was easier than digging the bullet out. Edward didn't do much welding, but there had been a few occasions when she needed parts too sensitive to buy off of someone else, too sensitive to leave a trail, so she had a little experience in guiding fire.

Still, Edward sighed in relief when it was over and she was able to cover the wound and wave away the stench of burning flesh. Spike gave his own sigh and let his head fall against the back of his chair. The wound would turn into a pretty nasty scar.

Edward turned to the bounty. He still lay on the ground, and the site of dried blood on the side of his face made Edward uneasy. She moved to clean him up and check his head wound.

His eyes were wide and unseeing, even though he was staring pointedly at Spike.

Edward frowned as she felt around the man's head. His wound was clearly defined against his scalp, slick and shiny. But around the small bump, his skin felt callous.

Slowly, Edward asked, "Are you in the habit of throwing yourself at walls?"

Edward saw Spike twitch and his eyes flew open. Then, the bounty violently jerked. Edward heard a sickening crack and threw herself away from him, but she was too slow. He'd broken his own thumb, and as he slid his hand from the cuffs, he raised his arm and brought his bony elbow down on Edward's temple.

When she awoke, Edward wondered if she was awake at all. She felt herself blink, but there was no light. Her fingernails clicked as she touched the metal floor she lay on, but when she held still there was no sound. Again, Edward wondered if she was awake. Then, she wondered if she was in the place where Faye was.

A moment latter, there was a terrible groan as the ship's engine turned over, and the lights buzzed and clicked as they came to life. With a _whoosh_, the ventilation came on and air began to filter in and out of the room.

And just as quickly, all systems again died, and the sound was jarring as only the absence of sound could be.

For several minutes, Edward lay still, her eyes wide despite the lack of light, and she listened for sounds which didn't come.

Then, the engine rolled, the lights came on, and air was again pumping through the ship.

Edward stood and stumbled towards the room's door. She continued to stumble in that direction even after the room became dark and silent and still. When she pushed at it, the door easily slid open. The sound of metal against metal echoed forever down the halls.

"Spike?" Edward whispered in the dark.

"I put him in the greenhouse," came the clear, distinct reply, and Edward jumped.

Edward heard the click of a key, and the ship once again came to life.

They were in the ship's control bay. The man sat in the captains chair, slumped low with his arms hanging over the side and his legs spread out in front of him. His uninjured hand was resting over the ignition key. He stared forward out the window, except that rock and dust obscured the view of space.

With a turn of his hand, all systems were turned off.

"It took me a long time to work that out," he told Edward through the dark. "It used to be if you turned off the ignition, the life support and cooling systems would continue running. The green house made the most awful noise. Like that guy. He's got the same accent as Daniels. Daniels never shut up."

Edward wondered if the man was calling Spike chatty. But that didn't make sense. Faye made the most noise, and Jet's voice reverberated off metal. Edward liked the pitch of Spike's voice, when he actually spoke.

And this guy – he spoke far too softly. He knew how far his voice could carry in silent space.

"How long have you been here?" Edward asked. "Why haven't you called for help?"

The man shrugged. "Carter was the first to go mad, and the radio was the first thing he took."

"We can get help," Edward offered, because her Rudger wasn't in its place against her hip.

"No you can't," the man told her. "I cut the other ship loose."

Edward could hear her breath, and she worked to keep it even. Her eyes were wide from shock, but she _couldn't see_.

"Why would you do that?" Edward asked, grabbing the doorway for some sense of place.

"I won't leave this place," he told her, his voice sharp. "One way or another, I'm not leaving."

"But..." Edward murmured, "There are places you can go. People who can help you..."

"Shut up," the man snarled. He turned the ignition, and when there was light, Edward could see his mad, glassy eyes turned towards her. "Why would I want their help? What could they do to help me, when I need no help?"

"But... you're all alone out here."

The man laughed, the sound low and joyless. "You sound like Masterson! That idiot didn't understand, either. Will you kill yourself, like he did? Your gun is in the kitchen. I put it there with all the others."

"O-others?" Edward asked.

He nodded, still staring at her with that strange smile. "You honestly think you're the first to find me? Others have tried to take me away. But for what? As if _others_ would make any difference."

"But they would make a difference!" Edward argued. "No one should have to be alone!"

"Everyone's alone. Always," he stated.

The man didn't blink, his expression didn't change, and he didn't move as he stared at Edward. She didn't like how he looked at her, as if he were deciding something, or waiting for her to move.

Edward shivered and slowly backed away, returning to her room. The next time there was light in the ship, Edward found a second door in the room, and she used it to to make her way into the main passageways. For the next hour, she navigated through bouts of dark and silence, looking for Spike.

**A/N: Thank you for 100 reviews! I/ve been working on this story for a long, long time, and everyone/s support means a lot to me! Seriously, even when I only get three reviews on a chapter, those three are wonderful enough to make me crank out another chapter. In celibration of numero cien, I/ll be putting up another chapter within the week! I hope you/ve all enjoyed the story so far and the chapter I gave you today (even though the mood is super dark. It hardly seems fitting for a 100 count celebration, but there you have it). As always, review!**


	21. Session 21

Edward gave a heavy sigh when she found her way to Spike. The green house was unkempt. Vines crept up the walls, and leaves spilled over the sides of their planters. Dead leaves coated the floor, and the air was thick from the moisture in the room.

Spike was handcuffed to the hydration system. However, he seemed unconcerned as he watched Edward enter the room. He sat amongst crinkled leaves, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. It was obvious he had struggled against the bounty; there was a tear across the stomach of his suit, and Edward could see red staining the white fabric stretched across his left arm.

"There's something really wrong with him," Edward told Spike as she slid to the floor next to him.

As if to extenuate her point, the ship again became dark.

"He's been alone for a long time," Spike pointed out.

"How can you tell?" Edward asked.

Spike shifted in the dark until his arm was pressed against Edward's, physical proof that they weren't alone in the dark. "Judging by the operation he has here – the greenhouse, self renewing oxygen, hydration systems, and self renewing energy – this ship was used to settle and populate satellites, like Ceres, in order to manufacture resources. I'm guessing the ship's been here for 30 years because 30 years ago, the private manufacturing and distribution of resources was illegal. Crafts like this were sent out under the radar, and if something were to happen to the operation or crew, the accident would go unreported. When this ship crashed, the crew knew no one would be looking for them."

Edward frowned. "So they survived and had all of the resources to keep surviving, but no one came to look for them?"

Spike gave a small snort. "Edward, you know better. When things go wrong in space, they _really _gowrong. You know the statistics."

Everybody knew the statistics. People didn't like to talk about them, though, because space travel was now a part of everyday-life, and who wanted the reminder that in the event of a crash or mechanical malfunction, there was a .02% chance of surviving in deep space?

"Still, in 30 years, someone had to have come across this ship!" Edward argued.

Spike hummed in agreement. "Someone did. But the crew would have already been dead or insane. I imagine that's where the bounty came from; with Ceres producing and shipping, there would be more activity in the area, and our guy has probably killed most of the people to come across his ship."

Edward shook her head. "How are we going to get out of this?"

"We managed to get a message out to Jet," he reminded her. "He'll know something went wrong when we're not back in a couple of hours. So until he manages to find us out here, we'll have to hang tight."

With a sigh, Edward settled against the wall and Spike's arm. The ship was still dark and quiet, and Edward had the feeling it would continue to be so for a long time.

After sitting for a bit, Edward began to chuckle.

"And what about this is funny?" Spike asked. The question was almost a repremand. However, he sounded honestly curious, and his tone even held a hint of amusement because of Edward's antics.

"He called you chatty," Edward told him, still giggling.

"Ah," Spike replied, his smirk well heard. "I wondered why I was having such an easy time of winding him up."

"Yeah?" Edward asked. "Why?"

"He cornered me in a wide hallway, and there was an echo because of the metal walls. I managed to land a few solid hits in that hall," Spike said wistfully.

Edward's giggles continued for a bit longer. However, once they died away, she was left with an ache in her chest.

"I don't know how anyone could stand silence like this," Edward told Spike. "I don't see how anyone could grow to like it."

Edward felt Spike's arm lift in a shrug against her shoulder. "It happens all the time."

After a beat, Edward asked, "Really? And they haven't figured out that people shouldn't be left alone in space? Or-"

"No," Spike interrupted. "I'm not surprised you haven't noticed them; people seem to be drawn to you. But even in the largest cities on Mars, there are a lot of lonely people."

"You know..." Edward slowly began, "Vicious has the same color eyes as our bounty."

Spike hummed his agreement. "Vicious has been alone for a long time."

"But you haven't," Edward argued.

"Excuse me?" Spike asked.

"You haven't been alone for a long time. You've been on the Bebop, with us."

Spike shifted, his shoulder nudging Edward's a bit. "Doesn't mean I haven't been lonely," he told her.

Edward frowned into the dark. "What about Faye, then? And Jet?" she asked.

"Why do you think we get on so well?" Spike asked bitterly.

"And what about me?" Edward asked, her words clipped and stubborn.

Spike chuckled. "You're your own girl, Ed. You don't need us."

"Says who?" she argued. Edward couldn't remember ever arguing with anyone before, and she knew she sounded like a child - clearly, she needed practice if she wanted to be able to argue like Faye.

But then, she couldn't remember ever being so angry, either. Edward wasn't pleased to learn that Spike could write her off so easily.

"You still believe you're better off here after I've gotten us into this mess?" Spike asked. "We probably wouldn't be in this situation if I had waited for Jet to show. Have you thought of that?"

"Of course I have!" Edward was thankful Spike couldn't see her rolling her eyes. He hated when Faye or Jet did that at him. "I thought of it the moment we first saw this ship in the asteroid! But you know just as well as I that waiting for Jet would have been _boring_."

There was a moment of silence. Then, Spike said, "You didn't want to wait for Jet because you thought waiting would be _boring_?"

"Sure! Why didn't _you_ want to wait for Jet?"

"I thought we could take him-"

"Same difference," Edward inturupted. All ego aside, Edward knew that Spike hated inaction, and although he was usually very smart about it, he also usually acted on impulse.

After a moment of silence, Edward gave a long sigh, her anger and frustration expelling from her frame, and she slumped further against Spike. At this point, she was probably straining Spike's hand and injured arm against the cuffs, but Spike made no complaint, so Edward made no move to pull away.

"You're an idiot, Spike Spiegle," she finally murmured. "Of course I need you."

"The same way you need Jet and Faye?" he asked curiously.

Edward giggled. "It would be weird if you started giving me beauty tips or if you began worrying about my status as a legal adult."

Spike chuckled as well. "I see," he told her.

"You do?" Edward asked, grasping his forearm in order to make sure she had his full attention and that he understood the weight of her question.

"Of course," he assured her, speaking in the low, rumbling tone that she liked best.

Satisfied, Edward withdrew her grasp and returned to simply leaning against Spike's shoulder. She found that she was quite comfortable there. He was bony, but not so much as she was, and his arm radiated heat.

"You know," Edward quietly began, "you have been kinda chatty this evening."

The silence which followed her statement was long. Once again, the darkness was absolute, and the silence made Edward's ears ring. In the absence of any distraction their voices had provided, the state of the ship and Edward's body was brought to her attention. The ship's life support functions had been turned off for a long, long time, and a chill was permeating the room. Edward realized she was loosing feeling in her toes. She wished she hadn't said anything.

After a long pause, Spike asked, "In a place like this, what else is there?"

The echo of Spike's voice had just died when a loud crash sounded across the ship. The walls and floors shook, and the sound was like thunder. Soon, the tremors died away, but then Edward felt that the air was growing thin and cold much, much quicker than it had been before.

In the darkness, Edward slipped her hand into Spike's.

After a pause, his fingers tightened around her's.

Then gunfire began to echo across the ship.

**A/N: Hey, all. I hope you liked the chapter! Sorry if there are any errors; it/s really late at night, and I/m a little late in writing the chapter, so I really cranked this out. Spike and Edward/s conversation wasn/t as serious as I hoped it would be, but I/m really happy with how it came out. **

**I just wanted to give a shout out to _Yaraslava Rada_ for both making me realize that Ed and Spike/s relationship had to start making headway _sometime_ soon and for giving me inspiration on how to get their conversation going. It/s strange how I can find inspiration in the littest of comments. Thank you. :)**

**As always, review please!**


	22. Session 22

Ceres was bright that evening. The red and yellow lights of the ISSP ships flashed in a constant, steady rhythm, illuminating the surrounding area while lighting the police officers and Bebop crew in sharp profile against the dark surroundings.

The paramedics were already finished looking over Edward – she had only received a few scrapes and bruises during their escape from the asteroid. They would be done with Spike soon enough. Apparently, she had done a good job in fixing up his bullet wound, and he would only need to receive an I.V. to ensure he didn't get an infection. There was also some bruising around his wrist from where he had been handcuffed, but he would be able to take off the bandaging from his wrists in two or three days.

Jet had received the worst of it. He was now missing an arm. Luckily, it was the arm he had already lost, but all the same he now only had one functioning hand. The cleaning crew had found his discarded prosthetic arm in the wreckage of the asteroid-lodged ship, and they had transported it back to Ceres. The bounty had done a number on the metal appendage when he ripped it off of Jet, and although it could be reattached, it wouldn't work the same. It wouldn't be as dexterous as before.

"Do you think you could fix this?" Jet asked Edward as the paramedics inspected the stump of his arm to be sure the metal hinges were undamaged, and the arm could be reattached without replacing the fastenings."Repairing and attaching my arm would cost a fortune, and with Faye's bills racking up, we couldn't afford it."

"No problem, Captain!" Edward assured, despite the fact that she had no experience with prosthetic limbs what-so-ever. However, as she said, "I could fix Humpty-Dumpty if I wanted to," she knew it was true. Because of the number of artificial nerve endings and muscle cords which allowed the metal to function similarly to a live arm, the technology was more closely related to a computer than most machines Edward was familiar with, like as a spacecraft or a microwave or something. Edward was confident she could figure out a way to help Jet.

Jet sighed in relief, and he said, "Good," in a soft, low tone.

Edward planned to stay with Jet while the paramedics looked over him with the hope that she could sooner gain an understanding of how his false arm functioned, but soon after she finished giving him her reasurances, yet another ISSP ship landed close by. The ship added to the chaos of the area as more lights began to flash and two more officers stepped out of their vehicle and their voices joined the commotion around them.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to make Edward uneasy. Everything was so _loud_, so _bright!_ She wanted a moment of peace, of quiet.

Edward began wandering away from the chaos, despite the fact that the paramedic was talking to Jet and providing information she might need later in order to help him. Instead, Edward wandered further up the road – the _only_ road on Ceres, towards where the Bebop's adventure began. There was a bar along that road, Edward knew. It wasn't quiet, like the still air which permeated Ceres, but the songs playing on the jukebox were familiar, and the men in the bar grumbled in the same tone of voice as every other man in every other bar in the solar system. The atmosphere there would be familiar and predictable. It wouldn't be like the circus comprised of the ISSP detectives and medics.

Edward knew that bounties went wrong. She'd seen it happen a hundred million times while living on the Bebop. However, they had never gone wrong when she was involved. This was her first. The crew wouldn't be receiving a bounty; unlike Billy Hypner, the stipulation "Dead or Alive" had never been tacked onto the bulletin, so Jet, Spike, and Edward had nothing to show for their troubles, since the man would be leaving his spacecraft in a body bag. Instead, they each had injuries which they would have to fix up themselves, and they would have to pay money to have Spike's _Swordfish_ towed.

And that man, their nameless, nearly faceless bounty, was dead. He had no resolution, just as Edward felt she had no resolution. He had died suddenly and horrifically, and the thirty years he had spent alone would be written off as if-

Edward stopped.

There, sitting in the middle of the road, right in front of Ceres' only bar, was her Tomato.

Edward realized that she had _forgotten_ her computer when it gave her no information or help. She had left it alone, uncared for, while she and Spike had faced a twisted, demented man while they had nothing but their fists and guns.

And what did she have to show for it? She was bruised, Spike had a new scar, and Jet was missing an arm. Just exactly _what_ had all that pain and suffering been for when nothing had gone right, and-

"Whoa," Spike said as he suddenly appeared beside her. Edward jumped a little, because she had thought she was alone.

Spike walked past her, his gait slow to hide the limp in his left leg, and he approached her Tomato lying forgotten in the road.

"I can't believe no one picked this up," Spike said, crouching down to give Edward's computer a good look. "Technology like this is hard to come by on Ceres."

"It's mine," Edward argued.

Spike nodded. "I know. But people still surprise me sometimes."

Spike took the computer between his hands and stood. "Come on, Ed," he demanded. "It's time we move on."

Slowly, Edward nodded. Then, she moved forward and took the Tomato from Spike's hands.

The pair wandered down the road, towards the _Bebop_, bypassing the bar and it's music, not thinking about the ISSP and their investigation, and only briefly wondering what the next day would bring.

**A/N: This is officially the shortest chapter I/ve ever posted. I would have made it longer - Honestly! However, I thought it would be a good conclusion to the Ceres Arc of the story. And so, here it is!**

**As always, I ask that you review. My ego is my greatest inspiration. It/s a sad truth, but at the same time, it/s never failed me in the past!**


	23. Session 23

Edward was ready. She had spent months overcoming the emotional impact of Faye's injury and coming to terms with her own place on the Bebop. She had taken part in capturing bounties and was a fully initiated crew member of the Bebop. She was older, smarter, and she was tougher. Edward decided that it was time she go and see Faye.

In the previous months, Edward had submitted her altercations of the hospital's medical equipment through her computer. However, she had gone through almost all of the blueprints the hospital had sent her, and because she was ready to see Faye, and because she was preparing to give the hospital the last of her altercations, she decided to appear at the hospital in person.

Edward made an announcement to Spike, Jet, Ein and Tide (who was growing very large very quickly) that she intended to make the trip to Venus. And although the Bebop had been loitering outside a gate near Saturn, the entire crew agreed to tag along.

Spike said he'd go because he was bored. Jet said he'd go because Ed's work for the hospital had not only paid off Faye's medical expenses but had also brought in enough money to make some major repairs to the Bebop, and he thought he owed some gratitude to the hospital for taking care of his ship.

However, Edward suspected that the two men were curious about Faye and wanted to check up on her.

So on one bright Venus morning, the trio (plus Ein, plus Tide) strode through the front doors of a hospital which proclaimed itself "the leading experts in medicine and medical technology" on a placard near the entrance.

In the lobby, the group was assaulted by the smell of fresh paint and the noise of the shouting construction workers.

At the receptionist's crisp new desk, Edward only had to say, "Hi! I'm Ed-" before the receptionist was on her feet and tripping over her own words.

"Dr. Amjad will want to speak with you!" they woman told them.

As they were lead from the treatment center to the administrative offices, people paused when they saw the welsh corgi trailing alongside Jet as well as the alligator resting across Ed's arms and shoulder, but they didn't present any further questions when the name _Tivrusky_ made its way down the corridors.

Dr. Amjad turned out to be the Chief Executive Officer of the hospital, and he greeted Edward with a beaming grin.

Dr. Amjad's office was as neat and sterile as the rest of the hospital. The room was large and bright, with one wall made of glass overlooking a private courtyard and the rest of the room decorated with simple but elegant wood paneling. A row of shelves lined one of the walls, and every shelf was full of medical encyclopedias and dictionaries.

And as Edward glanced around at the few framed works gracing the walls, her eyes paused on something she recognized.

"Is that one of my blueprints?" she asked before introductions could be made.

Again, Dr. Amjad beamed. "Of course," the elderly man said. His dark skin was heavily wrinkled around his eyes, and his hair was gray. He had a mouth made for smiling, with wide lips and bright teeth, but the skin around his mouth stretched in a manor which suggested that the man more often wore a more serious expression. "The first designs you sent us were superb, of course. They were much more cost efficient in regards to construction and energy consumption. However, your improvements of that device – your upgrades to a common pacemaker – it put this hospital on the map. And the medical breakthroughs our doctors have been able to make because of your other alterations have been remarkable."

Edward liked this idea, the idea that she had helped people, the idea that she had helped something _remarkable_ happen. Her chest swelled with pride (and for a split moment, so did her head).

Then, Jet said, "That explains all the renovations we saw while we were coming to your office."

Dr. Amjad nodded. "Since our new treatments began, the hospital has received a number of very generous donations, as well as a significant amount of grant money for future research."

"Huh," Jet hummed.

And suddenly, Dr. Amjad's smile didn't seem so bright. His lips were still curved, and his white teeth were still showing, but Edward didn't think he looked friendly anymore. "Of course, Miss Tivrusky has already received the compensation agreed upon in her initial contract."

In other words, Edward wasn't being given the due she deserved, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Or course," Dr. Amjad said softly, in the tone of voice a parent might use on a fussy child, "There is always more work to be done, and although the scientists in our new research division are certainly competent, more improvements can always be made."

* * *

There was a sour taste in Edward's mouth.

She'd spent years researching bounties and digging up dirt for the Bebop crew without much thanks for her efforts. For years, they had shamelessly used her for her hacking abilities and then hardly gave a nod in her direction.

But then, she'd known what she was getting into when she decided to wander onto the Bebop for the first time. She hadn't expected much else, and she wasn't surprised by the treatment. She wanted to be on that ship, with those people, and so she continued to be there.

Now, she felt used. She had received compensation, true, and the hospital was still taking care of Faye, yes. But even though Jet was looking over Edward's shoulder as she agreed to a new contract and received a new batch of equipment to improve, Edward _knew_ she was being taken advantage of.

She knew because Jet wasn't a lawyer, and while they were negotiating the terms of her contract, there were a few times where he let slip that he didn't understand what Dr. Amjad and the hospital's lawyers were talking about.

She knew because Spike stood behind them, his arms crossed and a contemplative scowl on his face throughout the entire transaction.

As the Bebop crew made their way to the main hospital, they trudged, walking slowly and with slightly hunched shoulders (although in Edward's case, her hunch may have been because of Tide's weight.) Around them, doctors and nurses and orderlies tutted their respect and their awe at such a young girl achieving such greatness. The people spoke in low, hushed tones, and they scurried to pass the news of Edward's presence in the hospital from one person to the next.

Edward felt gratified by the expression on Jet's face in response to those people. The man looked as if he might take a swing at someone, even if his metal arm _was_ still busted.

Finally, the group made it to the room where Faye was being kept. The air inside the room was chilly, and the chamber hummed with life, even if Faye didn't.

Inside the room, Spike broke down and lit a cigarette, even though smoking was only allowed in the lobbies and other designated areas. "This had better be worth it," he quietly snarled as he watched Edward move towards the cryogenic chamber.

And upon reaching the chamber and looking inside of it, Edward discovered that it was _not _worth it.

"That's not Faye," she said.

* * *

Edward had never felt rage before. She couldn't even remember being angry. Sad, hurt, scared, yes. But nothing before had ever compared to what she felt as she silently made her way from the hospital.

She couldn't speak for fear of opening her mouth and letting loose an unending, earsplitting scream.

At first, she had been dismayed upon looking into the cryogenic chamber and recognizing that the figure on the other side of the frosted glass had wide shoulders and a tall build.

Then, Edward grew hopeful as she, Spike, and Jet went from chamber to chamber, checking charts and looking through frosted glass in an attempt to find Faye. If Faye wasn't in a cryogenic chamber, that meant that the woman _could_ be in a recovery room.

So when it was clear that Faye wasn't present in any of the chambers, Edward searched the recovery rooms. However, Faye was not to be found awake and walking.

Finally, Edward wandered back to the chamber which claimed to hold Faye Valentine. Upon looking at the chamber's paper work, Edward discovered a mistake, a single typo in a small box which indicated the chamber's serial number. Because someone had typed in an 8 instead of a 3, the vitals and recovery of some strange man were being recorded in the hospital's medical system under Faye Valentine's name.

Edward had never felt rage before, but it filled her lungs and tingled in her toes when she realized that the hospital had lost Faye.

The Bebop's crew walked with long, quick strides as they made their way to the Bebop. Ein had run ahead of the group, barking wildly and conveniently clearing a path through crowded sections of the sidewalks. And if someone didn't move for Ein, they certainly moved for Tide, who was keeping up as best he could as he scuttled on the ground next to Edward.

The group made it back to the Bebop in a matter of minuets, and the crew huddled together at the kitchen table around Ed's computer.

It took Edward all of ten minutes on her Tomato to find Faye. "Credit cards, bank statements, _loans_," Edward whispered as she scrolled through information in cyberspace. .

"Loans?" Jet asked with a disapproving frown.

"Oh, sure," Edward breathed. "Apparently, Faye's become downright domestic in the past two months. She bought a bit of property, and the loan is being used to make payments on that property."

"You sure this is the right Faye Valentine?" Spike asked from the couch.

"Her thumb prints are on every document," Edward answered. "If this isn't her, then someone's gone through a lot of trouble to buy a crappy piece of property and a lot of high heeled shoes."

"Well?" Spike finally snapped. "Where is she?"

"She's here," Edward said. "The property she bought is five minuets from where we're docked."

**A/N: And I am back! I haven't had a reliable computer in over a year, and I have to say - It is good to write again! I've been wanting to get this chapter off my chest for a long, long time, and submitting this chapter feels VERY satisfying. It wasn't a long chapter, I know, but I have more coming! **

**Review, please!  
**


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